


A Calculation of Entropy

by Drogna



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Rip Needs A HUg, Rip sings, Rip-centric, RipFic, Sick!Rip, Team as Family, Whump, so does Gideon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-10-18 10:46:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 87,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10615284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drogna/pseuds/Drogna
Summary: The Legends are chasing a temporal arms dealer, called Zero Hour, who has been creating aberrations throughout time, when Rip comes down with the 'flu. This isn't just inconvenient, it's the start of some big problems for the Legends. Rip becomes very sick as their enemy makes it clear she wants them all dead.Set between seasons 1 and 2.





	1. One Coincidence Too Many

**Author's Note:**

> I decided that the world needs more Rip-whump, because the guy clearly hasn't been put through enough. Also I need more Rip-fic in my life, and I'm really missing Legends now we're between series. I was so very disappointed by the end of S2.
> 
> This is set between seasons 1 and 2, where Rip is still the captain of the Waverider.

* * *

 

 

“Men in rage strike those that wish them best.” – Shakespeare

 

* * *

 

This was going to be the mission where nothing went wrong. Sara had promised him that everyone had been properly briefed and no one was going to do anything stupid, like use their powers in public or seduce anyone. They would get through this mission with the timeline restored rather than more damaged.

Of course, it didn’t happen like that, because it never did and Rip had no idea why he’d even entertained the idea that it might.

It had come to the Legends’ attention that someone was selling futuristic weapons to people that shouldn’t have even been entrusted with weapons appropriate to their period. They’d been chasing this particular individual for a couple of weeks now, always one step behind him and everyone was getting a bit frustrated. He was going by the ominous name of Zero Hour, and something about that was making Rip especially concerned because he felt he should know why he’d chosen that particular name, but couldn’t quite place it.

Today was going to be the day that they caught him, because they’d finally tracked down a weapons buy between Zero Hour and the IRA in 1982. Rip didn’t like the way the timeline looked if the IRA gained more power in Ireland at this point, so it was definitely something that they needed to stop. Which was why they now found themselves wearing clothes appropriate for a terrorist cell in the 1980s and shivering in a cold, damp warehouse in Belfast, on a February morning.

They were posing as the IRA contingent, having removed them from the equation by stunning them and locking them in the Waverider’s brig temporarily. They wouldn’t remember any of it and would be returned to the timeline as soon as was possible following the arms sale. Rip was pretending to be the head of this IRA cell, with Sara and Mick as his backup. The only flaw with this plan had been the Mr Rory couldn’t manage any kind of Irish accent and Sara could only do something which was more Republic of Ireland than Northern Ireland. This left Rip to do all the talking, and whilst he could do the accent, his turn of phrase left a bit to be desired.

The rest of the team were hidden out of the way, and waiting his signal to take down the bad guys.

The arms dealer arrived in a large truck, which disgorged a number of burly looking men. They still didn’t know if any of these men were Zero Hour.

“Good morning,” he found himself saying to the man who had arrived with the guns, and then wondered if that sounded weird in a Northern Irish accent. “Which one of you is Zero Hour?”

The men looked at each other with a smirk. Then the leader stepped forwards.

“The boss doesn’t come out for the small deals,” said their leader. His accent was so thick that Rip had to concentrate to understand him, and his heart sank. Of course he should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.

Then the leader looked him up and down. “And you’re not Daniel Fillan.” The other men he’d brought with him were toting semi-automatic weapons and Rip could see them move to a more alert status at their leaders’ words.

“Change of plans,” said Rip, going for bravado. Behind him Sara and Mick had stiffened, but were waiting for him to indicate that it was time to fight. He didn’t think this was a completely lost cause yet, but it was getting close. “No deal unless Zero Hour shows in person.”

“Then there’s no deal,” said the Irishman.

“Seems a shame when there’s money to be made,” replied Rip.

“Yeah, I’m more interested in who you are,” he said, putting a hand on the gun at his side.

“Someone who wants to buy some weapons,” said Rip, posturing with as much confidence as he could muster.

“Someone’s been disrupting Zero’s sales and the fact you’re here and Daniel isn’t is one coincidence too many,” said the man. “Zero has a good idea of who’s been causing the trouble and if you’re him… Well, let’s just say I’ve got something special for you.”

The man reached into his pocket and suddenly Sara was leaping in front of him and taking on the bad guys with her usual flair. She was swiftly followed by Mr Rory, getting out his gun and burning things.

“Oh bollocks,” said Rip, and grabbed his gun. He fired towards their opponents, whilst making a run for cover. The leader had taken whatever it was out of his pocket now, and, as was typical of his luck today, had launched it in Rip’s direction. It proved to be a smoke bomb, and suddenly Rip was coughing up a lung as he accidentally took a deep breath laden with smoke.

He moved back, as Ray and Firestorm entered the fight and went to town on the weapons shipment. It didn’t take them long to destroy the entire thing, which exploded in a ball of fire that was sure to draw the attention of local law enforcement, and really anyone with a pair of ears. The men who had accompanied it were either scattering or down, some with rather nasty burns. Rip was still coughing from the smoke grenade, as he headed towards Sara’s position.

“Well that was frustrating,” said Sara, her sticks still drawn and her guard up. “I got the impression that he was suspicious from the start, and no Zero.”

Rip coughed, bending over to catch his breath. “Indeed. It looks like we’ve destroyed the shipment anyway.”

What was left of the truck was on fire and Mick was roasting it with a disturbing gleam in his eyes.

Rip tapped his radio. “We’re done here. Regroup back at the Waverider.”

He holstered his pistol since there was no one left to fight, and began the walk back to the Waverider with Sara at his side. Firestorm zoomed overhead and landed neatly beside him, splitting back into its two constituents.

“What the hell, dude?” asked Jax. “Did he make us?”

“It would seem so,” said Rip, just as Ray also came in to land beside them.

“How is that possible?” asked Martin.

“I have no idea,” replied Rip.

“Well, at least Mick got to have some fun,” said Ray. “Hey!” he called back towards Mick. “Time to head home.”

Mick looked like he didn’t particularly want to leave, but with a final blast from his flame gun he gave up and walked back in their direction.

“So, what next?” asked Martin.

“I think we need to do some more research into who Zero Hour actually is,” said Rip. “He seems to be better informed about us than we are about him, and I think it’s time we corrected that.”

“Okay,” said Ray. “I guess we hit the library.”

The Legends headed home.

***

Rip sneezed, and then blew his nose. The warehouse had been very cold and there had been a lot of waiting, so Sara wasn’t that surprised that one of them had managed to catch something.

The two of them were poring over the scraps of relevant data that they’d collected together in the newly completed library. Sara had been looking at the files Gideon carried on every Time Pirate that the Time Masters had ever come across. The others were taking a break, or had other tasks to complete. Mick had declared that he was heading to the kitchen as soon as they’d got back to the Waverider and not been seen since.

“Are you coming down with a cold?” asked Sara.

Rip frowned. “I doubt it.” He didn’t look up from the book that he currently had open.

“You doubt it?”

“I haven’t had a cold since I was a child. The Time Masters vaccinate all their Captains against the common cold and quite a lot of other things,” said Rip.

“Wait, there’s a vaccination against the common cold and you never mentioned it until now?” asked Sara, with annoyance.

“No, there was for Time Masters. I couldn’t very well give it to you though. You will probably want to return to your own time at some point and it would irrevocably contaminate the timeline if anyone ever discovered that you had been vaccinated successfully against the common cold. You’ll just have to make do with Gideon’s antiviral database to combat any colds,” said Rip, and sneezed again.

Sara sighed. “It would have been nice to have at least been aware.”

Rip sniffed, and turned a page.

“Maybe it’s allergies?” asked Sara, innocently.

Rip looked up at her with annoyance. “What would I be allergic to on my own ship? And why the sudden concern for my health?”

“It’s not _sudden_ concern. You’re sniffling and sneezing. Go to the medbay and get Gideon to give you one of those antivirals.” Sara was trying to sound reasonable. She didn’t need Rip ignoring her advice because he was being his usual stubborn self.

“I’m fine,” said Rip, but spoiled his bravado by coughing.

“Sure you are.” Sara leaned over and closed the book that Rip had been reading. “Go on. Gideon can fix you up and then you can get back to work.”

Rip gave Sara a cross look and let out a resigned sigh. “Fine.” He got wearily to his feet, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck.

“I’ll come with you,” said Sara, suddenly wondering if Rip would actually get there if she didn’t.

“No, keep working,” he said.

“It won’t take long,” said Sara.

“You are, of course, free to do what you want,” said Rip, with his best passive aggressive tone. Sara was getting used to this by now and hardly paid it any attention.

The two Legends walked down the corridor with Rip occasionally sneezing as they went, and wiping at his nose with his handkerchief. They entered medbay and Rip took a seat in the chair furthest from the door with some reluctance.

“This is really quite unnecessary,” he said.

“Yeah. Scan him, Gideon. He’s got a cold,” said Sara, ignoring Rip.

“Yes, Ms. Lance,” said Gideon, and Rip rolled his eyes at Sara’s pronouncement as the blue light played over his body.

“Actually, he appears not to have a cold,” said Gideon.

“I did say that,” pointed out Rip to Sara.

“He seems to have influenza. A variety which is not in my database,” said Gideon. “Unfortunately, that means that you are about to become quite unwell, Captain Hunter, and I do not have an antiviral to combat it. I would suggest that you rest, drink plenty of fluids and take painkillers as required. You will probably be most comfortable in your quarters and it is unlikely that you will need the services of medbay. It should run its course in a couple of days.”

Rip groaned. “Great, just what I needed.”

Sara just gave him an “I told you so” look. “You’ll be fine. Just do what Gideon says and you’ll feel better in a couple of days. Come on, I’ll walk you back to your quarters.”

She grabbed a bottle of painkillers from the cupboard and handed them to Rip, whose shoulders had noticeably slumped.

“I don’t feel that bad,” said Rip, as they headed out of medbay and towards his quarters. “We still know almost nothing about Zero Hour. I can keep working until I actually get properly sick.”

“And spread this thing all around the ship? Yup, that sounds like a good idea,” said Sara. “You’re much better off going to your quarters and resting.”

“I suppose we could compromise on me working in my quarters,” replied Rip.

Sara suspected that Rip was putting up a good front and was actually feeling worse than he was letting on, because normally he’d have argued harder about something like this.

“Okay, I can live with that, but if you start feeling worse, go to bed,” said Sara.

“I think I can manage to look after myself, Sara,” he replied.

“Yeah, you say that, but you’re the one that has to be reminded to stop work and eat,” said Sara.

“That only happened once,” replied Rip, as they reached the door to his room.

“That I’m aware of,” said Sara.

Rip hit the door opener and headed into his quarters, with a harrumph instead of a reply. Then he turned back towards her as something of an afterthought.

“Sara, you’re in charge until I’m back on my feet.”

“Me?” she asked, with some incredulity.

“Can you think of anyone better?”

Sara shrugged. She didn’t really see any of them in a leadership role apart from Rip.

“That’s decided then,” said Rip.

“I’ll come back and check on you later,” said Sara.

“Yes, yes,” said Rip, with a wave of a hand, already heading for his desk and books. “Don’t put yourself out on my account. I’m sure I’ll just sleep this off.” He coughed.

“Well, shout if you need anything in the meantime, or get Gideon to shout for you.”

“Of course,” said Rip, and Sara would have bet her favourite set of knives that he had no intention of doing any such thing. He was too stubborn to admit he might need help. She gave a shake of her head, and left him to his reading.

***

Rip actually felt pretty terrible, he was not used to being ill. The sneezing and coughing were ridiculously annoying and the headache that was forming behind his eyes was making it hard to concentrate. The temperature in his quarters seemed to be colder than it was normally too and he shivered. He wrestled with the top of the bottle of painkillers and shook a couple out onto his hand. He stood to get a glass of water and found that he wobbled slightly, but managed to reach the jug of water that he kept in his quarters and pour himself a glass. He downed the pills.

“Gideon,” said Rip. “I’m guessing that I’m running a temperature.”

“Confirmed, Captain,” replied Gideon.

His joints were aching now. “I think maybe you were right before, and I’ll just go to bed.”

He divested himself of his boots, coat and jacket, far more slowly than he usually did, leaving them hung over the back of a chair.

“Could you increase the temperature of my quarters by two degrees, please, Gideon?”

“Yes, Captain,” said Gideon.

Rip climbed into bed and wrapped himself in the covers as he shivered and coughed.

“Everyone report to the bridge,” came Sara’s voice. “I think we’ve found something.”

Rip groaned, shoving off the covers and pulling on his jacket. He pushed himself to his feet and pretended that he didn’t feel quite as horrible as he actually did. He pushed his feet into his boots and headed out of his room with a rambling gait. He stopped to lean against the wall just as Sara came around the corner with Ray and Jax.

“What are you doing?” asked Sara.

“Dude, you look like crap,” said Jax.

“Thank you, Mr Jackson, I’m aware that I am not at my best. Apparently this is what having the ‘flu looks like, and to answer your question, Ms. Lance, I’m on my way to report to the bridge.”

“Like hell you are,” said Sara.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Ray chipped in.

“Get back to bed,” said Sara. “The ‘flu isn’t something you just push through.”

“I’m beginning to understand that,” said Rip, rather miserably.

“Are you saying that you’ve never had the ‘flu before?” asked Jax.

“I don’t ever remember having it,” said Rip. “I definitely had colds as a child.”

“You’re of no use to anyone like this,” said Sara, with one of her best disapproving looks. “What on earth possessed you to even get out of bed?”

“Force of habit. To be honest, I didn’t realise I felt this bad,” said Rip.

“Come on,” said Ray, moving towards him, “I’ll take you back to your quarters.”

Rip gave a defeated nod, as Ray quite gently took his arm to help him.

“And no trying to get up until you feel better,” said Sara.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Rip, wryly.

Sara ignored him and she and Jax continued on towards the bridge.

“This is really quite inconvenient,” said Rip, with annoyance. “Zero Hour is not going to wait for me to be well before carrying out his next arms deal.”

“You can’t do much about the ‘flu,” said Ray, as he helped Rip back towards his quarters.

“Normally Gideon would have been able to cure it,” said Rip, “but for some reason she doesn’t have an anti-viral for this one.”

“That’s a little strange, isn’t it?” asked Ray. Gideon could cure most things.

“Nor necessarily. There are probably millions of potential combinations of ‘flu virus. I was just supremely unlucky,” said Rip, and coughed pitifully. He was trying to ignore the fact that his muscles felt like they were made of rubber and sewing needles. Each step was becoming more painful and he was very glad to have Ray to lean on.

“Hmm, I guess that does make sense,” said Ray, but Rip got the impression that Ray wasn’t entirely convinced, although he wasn’t exactly sure what he wasn’t convinced by.

They reached the door to Rip’s quarters and Gideon opened it for them without Rip needing to do anything. Ray got him to the bed and Rip sat down heavily.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine. I’m just going to sleep and hope that this thing burns itself out quickly,” said Rip.

“Good idea. Right, let Gideon know if you need us,” said Ray, and disappeared out of the door and towards the bridge.

Rip sighed, removed his jacket once again and this time decided that since he wasn’t going anywhere he might as well be comfortable. He exchanged his work clothes for his pyjamas, grabbed an extra blanket from the cupboard, took more painkillers and climbed back into bed to shiver and sweat his way through this thing.

“Gideon, dim the lights, please,” said Rip.

“Of course, Captain.”

The lights went to half their previous brightness and Rip closed his eyes. He couldn’t ever remember feeling this awful from just being ill. He coughed quietly to himself, as he tried to pull the blankets more tightly around himself and persuade his body to warm up.

***

Sara stopped in to see Rip once they’d got back to the Waverider from yet another unsuccessful attempt to find Zero. They’d tracked the henchmen back to a warehouse in a different part of Belfast, but it had been another disappointment.

Gideon let her into his quarters, where the lights were turned down low, and she found him in bed, tightly wound in his blankets and sleeping. She stood watching him from the end of the bed for a moment. She noted his pale skin and the tremors that ran through him, and felt kind of sorry for him. She’d been about to leave when his eyes pulled themselves open and he’d croaked a few words at her.

“How was it?” he asked, eyes rimmed with red.

“It was a bust,” she said. “No sign of Zero.”

“Nothing?” he rasped, with disappointment.

“Well, there was a warehouse with some suspiciously futuristic tech in it, but Mick dealt with that,” said Sara. “I guess we picked the wrong moment to take down his operation because apparently he was elsewhere. We’ll keep looking. There’s bound to be someone else out there that bought something from him.”

Rip lay back on his pillows with an annoyed huff of breath, followed by a coughing fit. “How long does ‘flu normally last?” he asked, with misery.

“Usually a few days,” said Sara, with a note of apology in her voice.

“I can’t be laid up for that long,” said Rip.

“There’s not much you can do about it, Rip. Just drink plenty of fluids and take the painkillers that I gave you.”

“I have been. It hasn’t made much difference. I still feel terrible and everything aches,” said Rip, pushing himself up on an elbow with obvious difficulty. He reached for his water glass and drank about a third of it. Sara took pity and decided to top it up for him, locating the water jug on his desk.

“Are you hungry?” she asked. “I could bring you some soup?”

Rip shook his head. “Maybe later.”

“It is later,” said Sara, “you haven’t eaten all day.”

“Oh, I hadn’t realised. I suppose I could try,” said Rip.

“Okay,” said Sara. “I’ll be back in few minutes.”

Sara headed for the galley and got Gideon to fabricate her some chicken soup. Then she took the bowl with a spoon back to Rip’s quarters, but when she got there he was asleep again. If he’d actually eaten anything that day then she’d have left him to it, but he needed to eat if he was going to get better. She put the soup down on the bedside table and gave him a gentle shake.

“Hey, Rip, you need to eat,” said Sara.

He groaned, and blinked open his eyes. “Is it morning?”

“No, it’s dinner time. Come on, sit up and eat,” said Sara.

Rip continued to blink his red rimmed eyes at her. “What?”

“I went to get you some soup, remember?”

“Oh,” said Rip, a shiver running through him. He still seemed a little confused. “I’m so cold.”

“But it’s really warm in here,” said Sara.

“I asked Gideon to increase the temperature,” said Rip, trying rather unsuccessfully to disentangle himself from his sheets. Sara gave in and grabbed a couple of cushions to help prop him up, then came back to give him a hand to unwind his blankets a little. He lay back against the pillows with a distinct weariness.

“Just how many blankets have you got?” she asked, as she peeled them back.

“I didn’t really count,” said Rip, with half a shrug, followed by a wince.

 Sara handed him his soup, carefully. She checked that he’d definitely got it before she let go. Then she looked at the bottle of painkillers. It looked to still be full, or perhaps missing a couple of pills.

“Have you taken _any_ of these?” she asked.

Rip had brought the bowl halfway towards his mouth, so that the spoon had less far to go, given his shivering. The potential for slopping soup everywhere was quite high. He turned his bloodshot eyes towards the pills.

“I definitely took some,” he replied.

“Can you remember when?” she asked, with exasperation.

“Before I fell asleep,” he supplied.

“Which was…?”

“A few hours ago?” He didn’t seem sure.

“Gideon, do you know when the Captain last took his painkillers,” said Sara.

“Yes, Ms Lance, it was about six hours ago. He is now overdue for another dose,” the ship’s AI supplied helpfully.

Sara let out a resigned sigh and shook out some painkillers for Rip to take. “No wonder you feel crappy if you’re overdue for more painkillers.”

Rip took the pills without comment and slurped them down with some soup, seemingly resigned to doing whatever Sara told him to do. She noticed that he was now slowing down between spoonfuls of soup. He’d barely eaten half of it.

“I don’t think I can manage anymore,” he said, after putting down his spoon and considering the bowl for a while. “I do appreciate you bringing it for me though.”

“Well, something’s better than nothing,” said Sara. “My Dad always told me to feed a fever.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure his medical degree came in quite useful,” said Rip, with biting sarcasm. Then he glanced up at Sara. “Sorry, that was rude of me. I’m very tired.”

Sara was a little taken aback by the apology. Rip was supremely good at putting his foot in his mouth but very rarely did he apologise.

“I’m beginning to think that you’re sicker than I thought,” said Sara.

Rip gave her a long-suffering look. “Why don’t you tell me about the leads we have on Zero?”

“Well, we don’t have many. Ray suggested we could track down the technology at its source, but we don’t even know what era it came from. We can scan for anomalies again. See if anyone’s fighting a war with guns more advanced than they should be…” Sara shrugged. “But it’s not like we can jump anyway, until you’re better.” She noticed the look that Rip was giving her, it seemed to be a combination of surprise and pride. “What? I pay attention. Time travel is bad if you’re sick or injured.”

“You’re right,” said Rip. “But hopefully a few days here won’t make any difference and then I’ll be well enough to jump again.”

He blinked at her tiredly.

“Yeah, we could use a couple of days of downtime to regroup,” said Sara. “I think you should go back to sleep.”

“That won’t be a problem,” said Rip, tiredly. He coughed and Sara thought she detected a new wheeze to it, but otherwise he seemed no worse than earlier. She collected up the soup bowl, as Rip settled back down again, closing his eyes. She took a moment to check that he was sleeping soundly and then left him to it.

She was quite tired herself, and an early night wouldn’t go amiss. She dropped the soup bowl off in the galley and headed to her own quarters to get some sleep. She was awoken sometime later by Gideon.

“Ms Lance, I require your assistance. I believe that Captain Hunter is sleep walking,” said Gideon.

Sara let out a long and heartfelt sigh. This was not what she needed. A quick check of her clock suggested that she’d been asleep for four hours.

“Where is he?” she asked.

“Currently he is on the bridge trying to persuade me to jump… to 2166,” said Gideon.

“Oh hell,” said Sara. “You’ve locked him out, haven’t you?”

“Of course, but if he uses one of his overrides then I might not be able to stop him,” said Gideon.

“Stall him until I get there,” said Sara, jumping out of bed.

“I am attempting to do so,” said Gideon, with what sounded like annoyance.

Sara grabbed the clothes she’d removed only a few hours earlier and pulled them on quickly. She pushed her hair back from her face, and left her room at a flat run. She skidded onto the bridge to find Rip, in his pyjamas, stood at the console table, looking at timeline data.

“But I have to find them…” he muttered. “Gideon, they’ve got to be there. I can get them from there.”

“Captain, you have already visited that time period,” said Gideon.

“But this is after I leave,” replied Rip, his voice breaking. “After I leave. It was our anniversary. That was the last time. I meant to go back then…”

He was shivering, with wild hair, pale skin and red eyes that had tears in them. He gripped the edge of the table like his life depended upon it.

“Hey, Rip,” said Sara, trying to sound casual. “What’cha doin’?”

“I have to go and get them,” he mumbled, not really looking up. She moved over so that she was beside him.

“Rip, you need to go back to bed. You’re not well,” said Sara. She reached out to take his arm, and she could feel how warm he was. He took a step away from her, swaying on his feet, and putting a hand to his head as if he was having trouble concentrating. She decided that she might need backup, and, after rapid due consideration, she decided who would be most helpful. “Gideon, can you wake Ray too?”

“Yes, Ms Lance.”

“No, I need…” said Rip, and stopped, seemingly forgetting what he was about to say. “Gideon, set a course for 2166.”

“I believe we have already had this conversation, Captain,” said Gideon. “You have already attempted what you’re proposing on multiple occasions.”

“Rip, you’re sleep walking, it’s the fever,” said Sara, but he still wasn’t looking at her.

“Maybe… maybe…” said Rip, and shakily walked towards his office, stopping to lean against the doorway.

Sara followed him and then stood in his way. She put out a hand to feel his forehead – it was warm to her touch. “You’re burning up, Rip.”

Rip looked up. “Sara?” he asked with bafflement. “Where…? Er… what was I doing?”

“You’ve got a fever, Rip,” said Sara. “You were sleepwalking.”

“I’ve got to get them, Sara…” said Rip, urgently. “He’s going to kill them.”

“Oh Rip…” said Sara, sadly, unsure what to say.

Rip was heading for his desk, unsteady on his feet. He leaned on it for support and Sara realised that he really shouldn’t be on his feet at all. Luckily Ray chose that moment to appear.

“Uh, what’s going on?” he asked.

“His fever spiked,” said Sara, with a hand indicating Rip. “He’s sleepwalking, I think, or delirious, or a combination of the two. He wants to go to 2166.”

Ray frowned and then he got it. “Oh, that can’t be good.”

“Yeah, I need to get him back to bed and I could do with a hand.”

It was at about that moment that Rip’s legs gave way, and he seemed to simply fold up at the knees and drop to the floor.

“Rip!” shouted Sara, dashing over to him. Ray was only a step behind her as she knelt beside their Captain. She checked his pulse and found it running too fast to be normal. He was still murmuring something, but she couldn’t quite catch it, and as she watched, his eyes rolled backwards and he was out.

“Gideon, I think we’re going to need medbay. His fever’s really high,” said Ray, as he felt the same warmth that was emanating from Rip as Sara had earlier.

“I will ready it,” replied Gideon. “Please move the Captain there as soon as possible.”

“We’re on it, Gideon,” said Sara, with a glance at Ray. He looked worried, his dark eyes taking in Rip’s pale skin. She knew her own face also reflected her concern.

“Let’s get him to medbay,” said Ray.

Sara nodded, and between the two of them, they got Rip down the corridor and into medbay, where they placed him on the nearest chair. Sara hooked up the medical cuff and Gideon began to scan him. Rip moved restlessly, still muttering something to himself even in unconsciousness.

“Captain Hunter has an unusually high fever for influenza,” said Gideon. “His temperature has reached 40°C and he is quite dehydrated. I am administering antipyretics, painkillers and fluids. It is likely that he will remain unconscious until his fever returns to more normal levels.”

Sara was really worried now. “Is he going to be okay, Gideon? I thought this was just ‘flu.”

“Indeed it is, but it seems to be a particularly nasty strain,” said Gideon. “I am unable to give you a prognosis at this point, but Captain Hunter was in good health prior to this illness which should help.”

Sara nibbled on her thumb nail as Gideon displayed Rip’s temperature, pulse and heart rate on the screen behind the chair. Ray was frowning.

“Gideon,” said Ray. “Could you give me access to the analysis of the virus that you did?”

“Of course, Dr Palmer,” replied Gideon.

Sara found herself mirroring Ray’s expression. “What are you thinking?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” said Ray, with a shrug. “It just seems a bit weird that Rip, who is never sick, comes down with something this serious whilst we’re in the middle of chasing down a temporal arms dealer.”

“We’re always chasing someone,” said Sara.

“Yes, I know, but this feels… off. Don’t you think it’s a little weird that Gideon had all those antivirals in her database, except for the one we actually need? I know there are a lot of ‘flu strains, but Gideon has the ones that were most common, so it’s massive bad luck for Rip to catch such an obscure one.”

Sara’s eyebrows were drawn down in worry. “I don’t know, Ray. We’ve been hanging out in some pretty out of the way places.”

Ray nodded, but clearly didn’t agree. “I know, but I’d rather look into it, just for my peace of mind.”

Sara understood. Sometimes you did just need to check something out for yourself before you fully believed it. “Knock yourself out,” said Sara. “We’re not going anywhere until Rip’s up to jumping out again. It could be a few days.” She didn’t add the very real fear she now had that Rip might die from this thing. She shook that off. Rip Hunter was not going to be taken out by a mere virus.

Ray gave a short nod and began working at one of the consoles.

Rip twisted in the chair. “Miranda! Please!”

Sara grabbed one of Rip’s hands. “Hey, shush, it’s okay, Rip.”

“Please…” he murmured. “Don’t kill them… Don’t…”

“Rip, it’s Sara, you’re on the Waverider,” said Sara, “you’re going to be okay,” trying to somehow pull him out of the bad dream he was in, but she wasn’t completely certain it wasn’t actually a memory.

Rip seemed to tire and go back into a deeper sleep.

“That actually worked,” said Ray, with a little surprise.

“There’s not much else I can do,” said Sara. “I doubt he’s going to remember any of this when his fever goes down.”

“I can keep an eye on him while I work,” said Ray. “You should probably go back to bed.”

Gideon’s display showed Rip’s temperature tick up a single degree. Sara sighed.

“No, I’ll sleep here,” said Sara, and headed for the other chair. “Wake me if you find anything.”

Ray had already turned back to his work, but Sara noticed that he’d also transferred Rip’s vital signs readouts to the corner of his screen. “Will do.”

Sara made herself as comfortable as she could manage on the other chair and slept.


	2. As Good as I'm Going to Be

Rip was tossed on a sea of dark, half remembered nightmares. He saw the faces of his family and reached out to them only to have them snatched away. It was hot where he was, he imagined he was in the Sahara where he’d once been sent on a mission to deal with a small war between Morocco and Algeria. Then Egypt, in a cell, desperate for food and water, slowly losing his strength and waiting for his execution, racking his brains for a way out. Then in India, hiding in plain sight as an officer of the British army, drinking gin and tonic to keep the malaria away. He’d been captured by a local warlord and locked in cell with his sergeant, the man he was supposed to protect who would one day save General Wellington’s life.

His thoughts were muddled and he was vaguely aware that none of what he was seeing was real, but the heat was and the pain in his limbs. Eventually even that sensation faded out and blackness enclosed him shutting down his awareness. He had no idea how much time passed but consciousness returned slowly, in fits and starts.

He heard a familiar voice. “His temperature is down,” said a man. “I think the antipyretics are finally working.” Rip associated this male voice with age and knowledge, but couldn’t put a name to it in his current state.

There was a cool hand on his forehead and he leaned into the pleasant sensation. It felt familiar, like he’d done it before, but he didn’t remember when.

“Thank god for that,” said a female voice. “I don’t think he could have taken another day of it.”

He didn’t know who they were talking about. Someone was apparently sick, because antipyretics were only administered for a fever. He faded back into unconsciousness.

The next moment he was aware of anything, someone else was talking.

“Sara, you should get some sleep,” said a younger sounding voice.

“I’m fine,” said the female voice he’d heard earlier. He recognised it.

“Miranda?” he wondered, even though the accent was wrong. Who else would be with him whilst he was sleeping? Apparently he’d said that out loud because he received a reply.

“No, Rip, it’s Sara,” she said. The cool hand was back, this time entwining fingers with his. Sara. He did recognise that name.

“Hey, man, are you back with us?” asked the other voice. Young, but not young enough to be Jonas.

He moved restlessly. He tried to open his eyes but they felt weighed down and he gave up, mumbling as he did. “Tired.”

“Yeah, I’m not surprised,” said Sara. “You’re doing fine. Just sleep, okay?”

He tried to nod, but movement was slow and painful. He managed a small gesture and then he was drifting away from lucidity again. More time passed. Finally, he felt reality reasserting itself once more. This time there were no voices, just a lightening behind his eyes. He blinked them open, and immediately regretted it when the bright lights of medbay seared his retinas, and he clamped his eyelids shut. He ached everywhere, and was aware of how heavy all his limbs felt, and how tired he was, despite the fact that he was apparently only just waking up.

He let out an involuntary groan, and heard movement.

“Rip?” asked the voice that had identified herself as Sara earlier. “Come on, two days asleep is enough. Time to open those eyes.”

Rip’s mind was trying to catch up with the information in that sentence as he turned his head towards the speaker, almost involuntarily. He once again attempted to open his eyes. He found himself squinting up at Sara Lance.

“Bright,” he managed to murmur, before shutting his eyes again.

“Gideon, can you turn the lights down to 50%,” said Sara, with a glance upwards.

“Of course,” replied the AI.

Rip risked another attempt to open his eyes and found that the lights had been dimmed.

“Sara?” he frowned. He attempted to raise his arm and found it attached to the medical cuff, weighed down by tubes, and realised that he was too weak even to manage that. “What happened?”

“You’ve been very sick,” said Sara, gently, “but you’re on the mend now. How much do you remember?”

“I went to bed to sleep off the ‘flu. You brought me soup…” he searched his memory for anything after that. He shook his head at the lack of anything following that and was rewarded with a horrible dizziness.

“Sometime during the night your fever spiked and you got a lot worse. We brought you to medbay and Gideon started aggressively treating your symptoms, but you’ve been in and out of consciousness for a couple of days. Ray and Stein have been working on finding an antiviral, but it looks like we won’t need it,” said Sara.

“Hmm,” was all Rip could manage. He didn’t get sick and Gideon could usually fix any injury that he acquired. The longest he’d even been in medbay was 24 hours, so this was unprecedented. He looked down at the cuff and the fluids that were running into the vein in his wrist. He still felt uncomfortably warm, which would explain all the dreaming about hot places. It was strange that he’d felt so cold before.

“How do you feel?” asked Sara.

“Like I was run over by a bus,” said Rip, his brow furrowing as he took stock.

“Yeah, this virus kicked your ass,” said Sara, matter-of-factly. “You’ll be back on your feet in a few days though.”

“Days?” asked Rip.

“You’ll need some recovery time after this,” Sara pointed out, her eyes and tone a little apologetic. “Gideon doesn’t want to let you out of here until your fever’s down another couple of degrees.”

Rip sighed. “And how long is that going to take?”

“The way it’s been going, you might get out of here tomorrow,” replied Sara, with a little smile.

“We don’t have that kind of time,” he pointed out. He attempted to push himself up and into a sitting position and very quickly realised that he simply had no strength. His muscles had all turned to jelly and were refusing to respond. He slumped back, breathing hard.

Sara just raised an eyebrow. “Well, that was stupid.”

“Yes, I did notice,” replied Rip, with resignation. “The point I’m making is that I can’t lie here for another day.”

“You’re going to have to,” said Sara. “Because until Gideon says you can leave, you’re staying right here. You need complete rest to beat this thing.”

Rip let out a tired sigh. “Apparently I don’t have enough strength to get up yet anyway, but you have to promise me that we’ll jump as soon as Gideon thinks I can take it.”

Sara looked distinctly unimpressed. “I’ll see what Gideon says.”

Ray wandered back into medbay, his head down, reading a tablet. He was totally engrossed in whatever was on the tablet.

“Ray?” asked Sara.

He looked up with a little surprise, clearly having missed Sara’s presence. He looked over at her, and then noticed that Rip’s eyes were open.

“Hey, you’re awake,” he said, a giant smile breaking across his lips. “I guess we won’t need that antiviral after all.”

“I think my immune system finally stepped up,” said Rip, croakily. Even his voice sounded weak.

“I’m still a little concerned,” said Ray. “Martin and I have been doing some research on this influenza strain and it’s a little weird.”

“How so?” asked Sara.

“It’s hard to go into if you don’t have some understanding of how viruses work, and it’s taken me a while to get up to speed myself. It’s a structural thing. This isn’t really an influenza virus, even though it looks a lot like one,” said Ray.

“But Gideon said that it was ‘flu,” said Rip, blinking red rimmed eyes at the inventor. “She very rarely makes mistakes.”

“Yeah, because someone probably wanted her to decide that’s what it was. It had me fooled too until I started picking it apart, and honestly I probably wouldn’t have spotted it if it hadn’t been for Martin helping me. Looking at stuff on the molecular level is more his thing than mine, despite my codename,” said Ray.

“That’s very interesting,” said Rip. “But I fail to see the difference between real ‘flu and almost ‘flu,” said Rip. “Whatever it was, it has been quite an unpleasant experience.” It still was, if he was being honest.

“I can imagine,” said Ray. “But the point is that I think this virus was manmade.”

“Manmade?” asked Sara. “You’re saying someone created this virus?”

Ray nodded, with a worried glance towards Rip. “Yes, even in 2016 that’s possible, but this looks more sophisticated than anything that could have been done in our time.”

Rip blinked tiredly. He was having trouble thinking, but he definitely got the significance of this. “So, this wasn’t a random occurrence, someone targeted us?”

“I think so. The question is how did they infect you and what did they expect to happen?”

“This, I’d imagine,” said Rip, with an attempt at a gesture towards himself. “We’ve already been stuck here for days, waiting for me to be well enough to resume our chase.”

Sara had a very dark look in her eyes. “Then why not just create a virus that infected all of us quickly and killed us? This doesn’t seem a very efficient way of dealing with us.”

“You have a point,” said Rip, with some disappointment in himself for not seeing that.

“None of the rest of us got sick,” said Sara. “I mean shouldn’t we all have caught it from Rip?”

Ray gave a shrug. “It is weird. I need to look into it further, and I think Professor Stein and I should finish off the anti-viral just in case one of us does come down with it. We don’t have the benefit of Rip’s improved immune system.”

“His what?” asked Sara, with surprise.

“Oh, yeah,” replied Ray. “Rip’s immune system is definitely something unusual in itself.”

“Not for a Time Master,” said Rip. “I did say that they gave us vaccinations for everything. They were about to send us off into history and the last thing they wanted was for us to succumb to the Black Death, or typhoid, or malaria or some other historic outbreak while we were working.” He coughed harshly. That sentence had been too long and much too difficult for his scratchy throat.

Sara moved to get him some water and returned seconds later with a glass that she helped hold to his lips so that he could sip it. He would have complained, but he already knew that he couldn’t raise his arms long enough to hold anything as heavy as a glass of water. He was trying very hard not to find this fact humiliating and only succeeding slightly.

“You okay?” asked Sara, as the coughing calmed.

Rip nodded. “I feel like I’m missing something about all of this.”

“Right now, all you need to do is rest and get better,” said Sara.

“Hmm,” was all Rip could manage to that. His eyes were already closing because he was so tired that he couldn’t keep them open any longer. “Maybe sleep is a good idea,” he murmured, and then he was off into desert dreams again.

***

Ray and Sara moved away from Rip’s bedside to give him chance to fall asleep properly. The readouts all showed that he’d moved into deep sleep, but she wouldn’t put it past Rip to be able to fake it.

“I know that look,” said Sara, as Ray’s eyes lingered on Rip. She was keeping her voice down, because she didn’t want to wake Rip. “You’ve figured something else out. Something that you don’t want him to know.”

Ray had that startled rabbit look that he did so well. “Well, I think we have to consider the possibility that they targeted him, and maybe that’s why none of us have caught it from him.”

Sara frowned. “They wanted Rip to get sick? But we’re back to why they just didn’t create something that would kill him.”

“I can’t answer that,” said Ray. “But maybe it would help to know how he was infected. Gideon hasn’t found any suspicious puncture wounds so it’s safe to assume that no one injected him with it. Unless it was done months ago and it’s been dormant all this time, but that would really be playing the long game.”

“Okay, well, let’s scratch that for now,” said Sara. “What other ways are there to infect someone with a virus?”

“Too many to count,” said Ray, “it might have been something he ate or drank, something he touched or something airborne that he breathed in. It could even have been a person, if they touched him, or even just coughed in his direction. If this was tailored to only infect Rip, then someone could carry this virus and never get sick.”

“Great, so we have no idea how he got infected,” said Sara.

“Sorry,” said Ray. “Hopefully we’ll have more of a chance when Martin and I have picked this thing apart. Then we might be able to work out the incubation period, and how long it was between infection and symptoms appearing. If it’s mimicking influenza then it could have been as little as day  between being infected and him getting sick.”

Sara’s shoulders sagged, as she groaned with realisation. “Damn it! It was the smoke grenade in the warehouse. Their chief goon only had one and he aimed it straight at Rip, right after he said something about us being people who’d interfered in Zero’s operation before… and that Zero had an idea of who we were. I thought that he was saying that to all of us, but now I think he might have just meant Rip.”

“That’s probably not good,” said Ray. “Maybe we should go back to that warehouse and check out whether it left a residue.”

“That was four days ago,” said Sara. “I doubt there’s anything left to find.”

“Even so, I’d rather cover all bases. Mick and I can go,” said Ray.

Sara didn’t really think there was much to be gained, but they weren’t going anywhere at the moment. “Okay, but don’t let him burn the place to the ground.”

Ray gave her a look which indicated that he knew the enormity of that task, but nodded.

“We’re going to have to tell him,” said Sara, looking back towards Rip. “If someone is out to get him then he needs to know.”

“I know,” said Ray, “but he’s been really ill. I think he needs a bit of recovery time before we drop this on him.”

Sara pursed her lips and considered this before deciding that Ray was right. Rip didn’t need to know that he was probably the target of a bioweapon just yet. “I agree, but as soon as Gideon gives him the okay to jump, we’ll have to tell him.”

Jax entered medbay. “I just put Grey to bed. I found him asleep at his desk.”

Sara sighed. “He deserves the rest.”

Jax nodded. “He’s been pushing himself. How’s Rip doing?”

“He woke up,” said Ray, “but he’s still running a temperature.”

“Yeah, he’s got a couple of days of recovery time ahead of him before he’ll be well enough to jump out,” said Sara. “You should get some rest too, Ray. You’ve done everything you can for now.”

“I am tired,” replied Ray, rolling his shoulders. “Okay, I’ll see you all in a few hours.” He headed out of medbay, still reading his tablet.

“You could do with it too,” said Jax, looking Sara up and down.

Sara gave him an amused look. “Who put you in charge?”

Jax folded his arms over his chest. “No one. It’s just that you, Ray and Stein seem to think that sleep is optional right now.”

“You’ll stay here and keep an eye on him?” said Sara, with a look towards Rip.

“Yeah, I guess we won’t be getting the Time Master desert destinations guidebook now he’s on the mend,” said Jax.

Some of the things that Rip had said whilst delirious were quite an eye opener about what he’d got up to whilst being a Time Master. She was going to have to remember to ask him about those.

“Okay,” Sara said, “but call me if anything changes.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Jax, with a small smile, and a two-fingered salute. He arranged himself as comfortably as he could on the other chair in the room.

Sara gave him an amused nod and headed for her bed.

***

Sara had been gratified that Rip was recovering, but his temperature was still too high and Gideon had informed her that the virus was not beaten yet. They were also stuck in 1982 until Rip was well enough to travel through time again, something which wasn’t making anyone happy, least of all Rip. Gideon hadn’t even allowed her Captain to leave medbay for 48 hours, which also had not gone down well. Sara was certain that it was only because Rip was still sleeping for most of the time that he hadn’t rebelled completely. Just to be on the safe side, they’d made sure that someone was always in the medbay keeping an eye on him.

Ray and Mick had returned to the warehouse and Ray had collected his samples uneventfully. Mick had been persuaded not to set the entire place alight in retribution for Rip’s illness and they’d returned to the Waverider. Martin and Ray had both been enthused to have new samples to study, but had found very little to help them.

Since then the two of them had been working on finishing their analysis of the virus that Rip had been infected with, and therefore in and out of medbay. Martin seemed engrossed in picking apart the mystery of what this virus actually was, but he and Ray were growing increasingly frustrated by their lack of progress. Jax had found himself bringing his nuclear partner food and reminding him to go to bed rather than pull yet another all-nighter, as Martin attempted to learn all there was to know about virus infection.

Sara made her way to medbay and found Rip sat on the edge of the chair, attempting to pull on a dressing gown without much success. Despite two more days in medbay, Rip was still weak and hardly eating. However, Gideon was finally letting him leave, but only on the condition that he didn’t do anything strenuous for another couple of days. Gideon’s idea of strenuous was also not Rip’s idea of strenuous and the two were currently arguing.

“I’m not a child, Gideon.”

“Chronologically, that is true, Captain. However, you are currently displaying many of the traits of an adolescent.”

“I’ve just spent four days lying in medbay doing nothing. I think I’m entitled to a little impatience,” replied Rip.

“What’s the problem?” asked Sara, grabbing the flailing arm of the dressing gown and helping Rip to get his hand into the armhole.

“I think that I would be fine to time jump. Gideon disagrees,” said Rip, crossly. “I realise that it might set me back a day or two in my recovery, but it will be entirely worth it if we can pick up Zero’s trail again.”

Sara regarded him with an appraising eye. He still looked pretty awful, but he was definitely better than he had been. For one he was sitting up and moving rather than just sleeping.

“Gideon, can we compromise on jumping after 24hours?” asked Sara, with a glance towards the ceiling.

“Yes, Ms. Lance,” said Gideon.

“See, was that so hard?” asked Sara, turning her attention to Rip, who looked decided annoyed.

“It is likely that the Captain will still feel quite unwell, but it will not be seriously damaging or put back his recovery significantly,” said Gideon.

“Oh good,” said Rip, with little enthusiasm.

“You’ll be pleased to know that we tracked down another aberration that we think is linked to Zero Hour,” said Sara.

“Well, that’s something at least,” said Rip. “Where and when?”

“The highlands of Scotland 84AD,” said Sara.

Rip groaned. “It would have to be…”

“What’s wrong with that?” asked Sara. “We get to dress up as Romans.”

“I have not had good luck with missions involving Roman centurions,” said Rip, with a touch of resignation to his voice. “And 84AD would be around the date of the battle of Mons Graupius, which also involved Picts, who are not known for their good manners or fine culture. It was a decisive Roman victory, which means we’d have to deal with the Picts, as they’ll be the ones with the anachronistic weapons. So, no, we don’t get to dress up as Romans. We get to dress up as primitive tribes people, and then we will probably have to watch them get slaughtered by vastly superior Roman troops, because that’s what has to happen.” Rip’s shoulders had slumped at his somewhat negative assessment of their job.

“You won’t be dressing up as anything,” said Sara. “You’re going to be staying on the ship where it’s nice and warm, and you don’t have to exert yourself in any way.”

“Yes, well, that we can both agree on, because I can guarantee that if we’re jumping all the way back to 84AD, I’m going to be very unwell indeed. Even the healthy amongst us will probably experience some side effects from a jump that far back. I should probably warn everyone,” Rip added, looking a little distracted. “Do we know why Zero picked this particular period to sell arms?”

Sara shook her head. “No, all we know is that things didn’t happen as they should. Gideon can give you the details.” She paused and then decided that she needed to get this out of the way, suddenly finding it hard to look Rip in the eye. “Actually, there’s something that I need to tell you.”

“And what would that be?” asked Rip, with barely disguised resignation to it inevitably being something bad.

“We think that the virus that infected you was targeted to _only_ infect you,” said Sara. “We think Zero was trying to kill you specifically.”

Rip frowned. “No, that’s preposterous. Why would Zero be interested in me alone? He’d know that if I died you’d just carry on without me.”

“Would we?” asked Sara. “The ship’s yours and so is this mission.”

“Really? You’d give up on protecting time so easily?” asked Rip, giving her a look of mock disappointment. “I thought I knew you all better. You’d be more likely to hunt down Zero and exact revenge on my behalf, surely?”

Sara raised an eyebrow, and allowed a small smirk to play across her lips. “You know us so well, oh Captain, my Captain.”

“Yes, but right now your Captain would like to move to the comfort of his quarters so that he can get some more sleep, because that’s all I seem capable of doing at the moment,” said Rip, using the armrest of the chair to help him to his feet. He gave himself a second to make sure that he had his balance and then let go.

“You good?” asked Sara, who had carefully moved herself into a position where she could catch Rip if he faltered. He seemed stable enough.

“As good as I’m going to be,” replied Rip.

Walking however proved to be a little more tricky. Rip managed two steps before he swayed and put a hand to his head.

“Dizzy?” asked Sara.

“A little,” admitted Rip.

Sara offered him an arm. “Come on, I’ll escort you.”

Rip hesitated. “I think I can manage to walk to my quarters.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t,” said Sara. “You’re less likely to fall on your face with some help though.”

Rip didn’t look terribly happy but he put his arm through Sara’s. The two of them set off out of medbay and towards Rip’s quarters at a somewhat slower pace than either of them would have set normally.

“When you’re feeling better, I want you to go through the Time Pirate files again. There’s got to be someone in there that holds a grudge against you and would want to do this,” said Sara.

“All of the ones that might have held a grudge against me were executed by the Time Masters,” said Rip. “If they’re in the files that I gave you, it’s because one of my fellow Captains failed to catch them. Gideon and I had a perfect record when it came to Time Pirates.” There was the slight swell of pride to his tone.

“Oh really?” said Sara, with slight amusement. “Maybe they just don’t like former Time Masters.”

“That is a distinct possibility,” replied Rip.

“Then perhaps you could see if any of them had any arms connections,” said Sara.

“They’re pirates, of course they have arms connections,” replied Rip.

“I don’t know then, maybe arms connections that fit with the times we’ve been chasing Zero?” suggested Sara, with a little irritation. “We need to find a better way of tracking him down and so far, all we know about him is that he’s selling weapons to people in different time periods. We don’t even know why. We don’t even know how he’s travelling through time.”

“I do realise that,” said Rip, “but we can only go through the files so many times.”

“But last time we weren’t looking for a connection to you,” said Sara.

“As I’ve already said, I don’t think there’s one to find,” said Rip, tiredly. Sara was feeling him lean more into her at every step. It was just as well that it wasn’t far to his quarters.

“Then let’s at least rule it out,” said Sara.

“Fine, I’ll go through the files again,” said Rip. “I’ll get Gideon to send them to the tablet in my quarters.”

“Not until you’ve eaten and slept,” said Sara.

“Have you been colluding with Gideon?” asked Rip, with some resignation.

“Only a little,” said Sara, as they reached Rip’s quarters. Jax was coming down the corridor in the other direction with a tray that had a plate of something under a metal cover on it.

“Don’t get any ideas that this is going to be a regular thing,” said Jax.

“Of course not,” said Rip, with a slight inclination of his head.

Sara gave Jax a smile, because he’d volunteered for this duty despite his bluster, which she was sure was mainly for Rip’s benefit. Everyone was aware that Rip and Jax had been spending hours up to their elbows in circuit boards in the engine room whilst Rip taught Jax about the Waverider. The two were definitely friends, and Jax had been as worried about Rip as any of them.

Jax put the tray on Rip’s desk. “Gideon chose the menu, so I don’t want to hear any complaints.”

Rip disengaged himself from Sara’s arm, shuffled to his desk and collapsed onto his chair.

“I do my best not to offend Gideon,” said Rip. “And I appreciate that you have more important things to be doing.”

“Hey, dude, I know I joke around, but if you need anything, all you have to do is say. You’re part of our team and we care about you,” said Jax, with a pat on Rip’s shoulder.

Rip looked taken aback by this declaration. “Er, thank you.” He looked over at Sara. “Am I allowed to eat and work at the same time or is that a step too far?”

“Gideon?” asked Sara, with a glance upwards.

“As long as you rest afterwards then there shouldn’t be a problem,” replied Gideon.

“Very well, then perhaps your best course of action is to leave me to my lunch and Time Pirate files. I’ll let you know if I come across anything relevant,” said Rip, already reaching for his tablet.

Sara looked around the room and checked that there was everything that Rip might need. She was pleased to see that there was a full jug of water, clean bedding and a bottle of painkillers within easy reach.

“Okay, don’t forget to take your pills. Someone will come by with dinner later, and Gideon has instructions to rat you out if you don’t actually get some sleep.”

“Noted,” replied Rip, removing the lid from the plate on the tray. The pasta dish that was underneath elicited a small smile. Sara was already aware that Gideon had described it as comfort food for their Captain, and hoped that he actually ate some of it. The signs were good that he might, as he had picked up his fork. She did her best to ignore the slight tremors which were running through his hand.

Jax and Sara exchanged a look, both reasonably happy with their arrangements for Rip, and the two of them left him to it. She noticed that he didn’t immediately command Gideon to shut the door either.

***

Rip was very disappointed to discover that none of the Time Pirates instantly stood out from any of the others. It would have been a blessing in disguise if it had turned out that he’d somehow had a run in with one of them and simply forgotten about it. Perhaps he had managed to annoy one of them before they actually became a Time Pirate, but that wasn’t the case. However, some digging did suggest that he might be able to narrow down the list of potential suspects.

He was somewhat annoyed by the Legends constant interruptions to remind him to rest, but he supposed that given how serious his illness had been, he had to expect a certain level of concern. He took the tablet to bed with him and continued to go through the files between naps, even though it probably wasn’t the most efficient way of working.

He was somewhat surprised to find that he was able to come up with a name. There was a Time Pirate going by the name of Calliope Dane, and she actually did have form in all the relevant periods that Zero had been operating in. Rip had to wonder why she’d decided to go by a new alias, as even assuming this was the right suspect, knowing where she’d been didn’t necessarily help with where she was going next. Several of his fellow Captains had tried to hunt her down and had no luck, although it looked like the Helios and Captain Meaden had made the most recent attempt.

He passed the file on to Sara, who informed the team. Something was still bothering Rip about the entire situation, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. His lingering ‘flu symptoms weren’t helping him to concentrate and he was still taking painkillers every few hours and sleeping for longer than was normal. His temperature was consistently a degree above where it should be and he ached, but it did seem to be improving.

However, today’s main concern was the jump to AD 84, which Rip was certain was going to be unpleasant. Jax had arrived at his quarters that morning to take him to the bridge, which had amused Rip rather than annoyed him. He was actually feeling a bit better this morning, and was rather less wobbly on his feet than he had been. He had even managed to dress in something approaching his usual work clothes, if at the casual end of them, going for a grey long sleeved t-shirt rather than his more usual white shirt.

He walked onto the bridge to find everyone getting ready for the jump. Sara was currently sat in the pilot’s seat, which he’d expected, because as it turned out, she was at least as good a pilot as Rip. What he hadn’t expected was the bucket and blankets that sat beside one of the chairs on the second row. Sara turned around to face him.

“Okay, so Gideon gave us a few instructions,” said Sara. “She thinks the most likely thing that’s going to happen is that you’ll throw up, but she also pointed out that you’re still running a slight temperature and this will probably make that worse, so blankets, and you’ll probably get at least one of temporary blindness, hearing loss, headaches, word salad or vertigo. Or you might just pass out on us.”

“You missed a few possibilities out,” said Rip, dryly. “And that I could get all of those together.”

“This does seem to be rather foolish,” said Martin. “We could just wait another day.”

“By which point, time will have solidified and we won’t be able to stop Zero’s arms deal, or at least not as easily,” pointed out Rip, as he sat in the indicated seat. “We’ve already waited long enough, and this most certainly won’t be the first rough time jump that I’ve experienced.”

Ray had grabbed the blanket and was rather ineptly tucking it around Rip, and Rip had just given up any idea of protesting at this point, because, apparently, his team were all going to be even weirder than usual about this. Jax pulled down the metal restraint, and handed Rip the bucket.

“No puking on my floor.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” said Rip, wondering when Jax had started referring to the ship as his. That was an interesting development.

“Okay, take your seats everyone,” said Sara. “AD84 here we come.”

Rip clutched the bucket to himself, steeling himself for the jump as the hum of the drive built beneath the deck plating. He doubted the others realised quite how bad this was going to feel. One of his least favourite bits about being a Time Master had been the necessity of occasionally time jumping when injured, and he’d always spared the Legends that because it was both horribly dangerous and extremely unpleasant. Time travel was hard on the human body, but did get easier the more it was done, which was why he very rarely experience side effects from time travel anymore. He doubted Gideon would have let any of the other members of the team even attempt this. It was going to be like his first time jumping, but with the added complication of a weakened body and a long jump back to AD84.

He watched Sara expertly lift them up from the ground and into the atmosphere, then into the timestream, Rip could feel his vision beginning to blur and his body protest, but it was the exit that would hurt. Sara navigated them out of the timestream just as skilfully and towards their chosen landing site, but it was like he was being pulled sideways out of reality for a moment, ripped out of his body and then deposited back into it but not quite in the right order of parts. Everything was jumbled and wrong.

His aches had turned into burning lines of fire that ran down his muscles, and he was freezing cold. The shiver that ran through him physically hurt, jarring everything. He screwed his eyes shut because he couldn’t make them focus and it was easier just not to make the attempt. His brain was telling him that he was falling and his stomach was very unhappy with that idea. Luckily the bucket was still firmly clutched in his hands so that when he inevitably vomited, he had somewhere to do it.

He heard his name being called but it sounded like it was a long way off. Then, suddenly, it was closer.

“Rip?” that sounded like Sara, but he didn’t think she’d been the one to call him before.

“Hey, man, say something,” said Jax.

“Urgh,” was all Rip could manage and a somewhat miserable groan as he continued to freeze and shiver painfully. His body was trying to make him throw up again but there wasn’t much left to actually expel. He was breathing hard at the effort though.

“At least he’s alive,” said a gravelly voice.

“Yes, thank you, Mr Rory. I think the throwing up gave that away,” said Martin, with distinct annoyance.

“Maybe we should move him to medbay,” suggested Ray.

“N…no… med…dd... Medbay…” he said as the shivering took away his ability to even get two words out without stuttering. Rip did his best to shake his head to back up what he was trying to say, and instantly regretted it as the motion had him toppling sideways. He could feel hands catching him with a “woah there” and getting him back to vertical. He let his head flop back against the head rest in the hopes that all this would pass quickly. He felt utterly awful.

“Sorry,” said Sara, “you’re going to medbay until you can actually form coherent sentences and stay upright. Mick?”

Rip let out a resigned sigh, but couldn’t force even a single word out in opposition because he was trying very hard not to pass out. He opened one eye and instantly shut it again as letting any visual input into his already scrambled brain seemed to be a very bad plan.

“Come on, English,” said Mick, and suddenly he was being lifted, bridal style, as someone else took the bucket from his now limp grip. He’d have protested at the indignity of it all, but he was currently trying to persuade his inner ear of the true direction of up, which it seemed to be having issues with. Vertigo really sucked, and the muscle pain was as bad as it had been two days ago. He found himself unconsciously curling towards Mick Rory’s chest, because there he could rest his head rather than trying unsuccessfully to keep it upright. His only half-formed thought was that Mick’s jacket smelt of burnt wood and smoke. He found himself grabbing hold of a handful of it to calm his irrational feeling of falling as Mick carried him down the corridors, and was glad that nothing was said about this.

Mick put him down surprisingly gently on the medbay couch, and connected the cuff to his wrist. Again. He’d only left here a day ago, and as much as he was aware that this was where he needed to be, he would have very much preferred the bed in his quarters. Medbay did not afford much privacy to its unfortunate residents. He was suddenly tired and only had enough time to register that Gideon had most likely decided to sedate him whilst he rode out the worst effects of the jump before he was drifting into unconsciousness.


	3. Queen Sara of the Legendes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for the lovely reviews. Normally I try to reply, but this week has been super busy, so apologies if I haven't got to your comment.
> 
> I'm working without a beta for this one, so all typos are my own.

* * *

 “It must not be denied, but I am a plain-dealing villain.” – Much Ado About Nothing, Act 1 Scene 3

 

* * *

 

“Is he settled?” asked Sara, when Mick returned to the bridge. She was currently examining data on the period at the main console, while Ray, Jax and Martin stood looking at the screens on the other sides.

“Gideon gave him some knock out juice. Probably for the best,” said Mick, leaning on the console.

“Yeah, he looked _bad_ ,” said Jax, with a shake of his head.

Sara agreed and was worried, but now was not the time to voice that opinion. He’d looked terribly small and vulnerable as Mick had picked him up, like he weighed nothing, and carried his shaking figure to the medbay whilst he clutched at Mick’s jacket. It reminded her of a child rather than the Captain of the Waverider and she could only imagine how bad Rip had been feeling to allow them to see him like that. However, that was not what the team needed to hear.

“He’ll be fine, right, Gideon?” asked Sara, with a glance towards the holographic head of the AI.

“Indeed, Ms. Lance, however, I would suggest that you do not attempt to jump anywhere again for a few days,” replied the AI, jovial as always. “Captain Hunter’s vitals suggest that his body was put under considerable stress. It is unlikely that he would survive that again without suitable recovery time.”

“Don’t worry, Gideon, we’ll give him the time he needs,” said Martin. “I expect we’ll need at least a couple of days to sort out this Pictish arms deal. Do we have any idea of where it’s taking place?”

“We could really do with Rip for this,” said Ray. “But from the research that Sara and I did with Gideon’s help, we think that there’s a small settlement called Durno that’s our best bet for finding Zero. We made sure that we landed close to it. The Chief of the combined Caledonian tribes, or Picts as we’ve been calling them, Calgachos, is supposed to be there readying his troops to fight Agricola’s invading army.”

“Okay, so we go to Durno, dressed as Picts, and find Zero,” said Jax, “I’m guessing he’s not going to be that hard to spot.”

“If Rip’s right about Calliope Dane, Zero might be a she,” said Ray.

Sara nodded. “Yeah, and we’ve all seen her picture.” Calliope Dane was a small, thin woman, with curling honey coloured hair and sharp blue eyes. She wasn’t what Sara had ever pictured when she thought of Time Pirates. The image that they had showed her in her favoured Confederate Army uniform. “I’d feel better if we knew for sure and had some idea of what he or she is selling.”

“Doesn’t matter,” said Mick, with his usual terse growl. “I’ll be happy to roast them and whatever junk they’ve got. I don’t like people who mess with my team.”

“No, I don’t think any of us are particularly pleased about Captain Hunter’s illness,” said Martin. “And perhaps we should come up with a better plan than just turning up at a primitive village and looking around.”

“We can say that we’ve come to join the fight against the Romans,” said Sara.

They knew very little about this period. Records of Roman Britain were better, but this was before that and the Picts weren’t good at writing stuff down. When the Romans had written about the tribes that they found, their accounts had been somewhat biased and possibly inaccurate. Gideon had done her best to draw from multiple accounts and reports by Time Masters to give them all the information that she had.

Ray nodded. “They’re going to need every man, and woman, they’ve got. They’ll probably be happy to see us. We’ll need to convince them we’re from another tribe. What do we fancy: Cornovii, the Caereni, Smertae, Carnonacae, Decantae, Lugi, Creones, the Taexali, the Epidii, the Venicones, the Caledonians, or the Vacomagi?” Ray let out a long breath.

Jax was shaking his head. “Yeah, and we’ll turn up and say “hey we’re the Vacomagi from Glasgow” and some other tribe will already be there and say “we live next door to the them, how’s that dude we know” and we’ll be all like “yeah, that dude is fine” and they’ll say “that dude died last month, you’re all liars” and then we’ll all draw our swords and it’ll go downhill from there…” Jax finally noticed that everyone was staring at him. “What? You _know_ that’s how it’ll go. How many times have we tried to bluff our way through stuff and it’s backfired?”

Ray looked around at the assembled team. “He has a point.”

Sara rolled her eyes. “Fine we’re from the Legendes tribe from Waverider in the far North, we have no neighbours but we had to come south to deal with the Romans. We’ve been walking for days. Sound okay?”

Jax gave a slight incline of his head as he folded his arms over his chest. “I guess that could work.”

“Good. We’re going to have to be careful with using our powers and tech. Rip would probably tell us to leave everything behind, but I’m worried we’ll need it,” said Sara. “Maybe… just try not to use it unless it’s an emergency.”

She received a series of nods from everyone except Mick. She gave him her best uncompromising stare.

“Whatever you say, Blondie,” he replied, with annoyance. “Do we get to go put our kilts on now?”

“I doubt that the tribes wore kilts during this period,” said Martin.

“Yes, well whatever it is that we get to wear, we should go and put it on, because we need to get moving,” said Sara. “We know that Zero’s arms deal takes place in the next couple of days and if we miss it then Rip just went through that time jump for nothing.”

There were some awkward looks exchanged across the console. Everyone had witnessed the misery that Rip had just put himself through to get them here and none of them wanted that to be in vain.

“No pressure then. Right, I’ll go start the fabricator,” said Ray, heading towards the exit from the bridge. “Gideon, what language do we need to be speaking?”

“Brythonic, Dr Palmer. It’s a dialect of ancient Celtic. I will reset the nanites appropriately,” said Gideon.

“And keep an eye on Rip for us,” said Sara, also heading off the bridge. “If he needs us, call and we’ll come back straight away.”

“Understood, Ms Lance,” said Gideon.

***

Caledonian tribes apparently wore a lot of wool. It was itchy and came in rather muted colours, which made sense given that it most likely used natural dyes. The guys had something which, whilst not a kilt, was probably some kind of predecessor to it. It was a sort of tunic in a pattern that was the ancestor of tartan. It had a V-neck, long sleeves, almost came to their knees, and was kept together by a belt in the middle. Gideon produced them in a decent variety of colours. Then there were loose straight legged trousers to go underneath. To keep them warm they each had a rather primitive cloak, which was basically an oblong of heavy, wool cloth and was hitched together on one shoulder with a large brooch pin.

Sara had something which looked like a tartan rug that her mother had once owned, but had a neck hole, and came down to her ankles. It went over a long-sleeved tunic and had a belt around it’s middle to give her some kind of waist. The one saving grace was that Gideon let her get away with a split side. She had a more ornate pin for her cloak than the guys got and a metal torc to put around her neck. Gideon had suggested that she plait her hair as a finishing touch, and in the end Sara at least felt the part.

They also took some blankets and what Gideon suggested were period-appropriate camping supplies to back up their tale of walking from the north for several days. Everyone agreed that the period footwear wasn’t fit for purpose and got Gideon to make some slightly anachronistic versions of it that were more comfortable and harder wearing. Rip would not have approved, but given that he was currently still recovering from the mother of all temporal hangovers, no one was going to tell him.

Finally, they were all given period appropriate weaponry, which made Sara pretty happy because she got a selection of knives and a large sword. Ray, Mick and Jax looked equally happy with their period swords, with only Martin failing to be enthusiastic about the item. He still strapped it on and ended up looking quite distinguished.

“Glasses,” said Ray, looking at Martin. “They didn’t have them.”

Martin gave an exaggerated sigh. “And how, pray, am I supposed to see?”

“Can you make him some contact lenses, Gideon?” asked Sara.

“Of course, Ms Lance,” replied the AI and produced a pair of contact lenses in Martin’s prescription.

Sara went down to the hatch to check out the lie of the land. They were only over a ridge from Durno, but amongst some trees just to make it less likely that someone would bump into them. The rest of the team joined her soon after and they headed out into the highlands of Scotland.

The wind was bitter, but their clothes were definitely designed with the climate in mind so none of them froze as they walked to the small settlement. It turned out to be a hillfort. It was made of wooden stakes with sharp points and had earth works surrounding it creating a labyrinth of wooden passages that led up to a rudimentary gate. The records of this period were very patchy and they hadn’t really known what to expect. Gideon had pulled together what she could from her database, but it was still less than would have been ideal.

They approached the gates of the fort with trepidation, to find they weren’t alone. As they’d thought, other tribes were flocking to Calgachos’ banner to fight the Roman menace. They were being allowed through the gate in small groups which suited them fine.

“Hi there!” shouted Sara, towards the figure on the high part of the wooden wall who was monitoring the entrance passageway. “We come to offer our swords to Calgachos!”

“What tribe?” he asked.

“Legendes. We come from the North,” shouted Martin.

“You bring your elder?” asked the man, in confusion. “Can he even still hold a sword?”

Sara kicked herself. Of course Martin would be considered practically decrepit in this age. The life expectancy must have been considerably lower and anyone Martin’s age was probably a rarity.

“He does well enough,” she said.

“Are you their queen?” was the next question. She knew that female leaders weren’t uncommon in this period, but perhaps he’d assumed this because she was the one who had made the initial contact.

“Yes,” said Sara, seeing no reason not to give herself some extra rank. It might help.

The gate was pulled back on its leather straps. It seemed that hinges hadn’t been invented yet. She was really beginning to appreciate everything that the 21st Century had to offer with this trip.

“Calgachos is meeting with all the tribal chiefs in the broch when the sun is overhead,” said the gate guard. “You can take bed space for you and your men in the long house by the broch. Hurray or you will have to pitch camp elsewhere. My name is Diarmad of the Caledones if you wish to say who sent you.”

“Thank you,” said Sara.

“Your sword is fine craftsmanship,” he added. “The Legendes must have many such craftsmen to create so many fine swords.”

“Aye, we do,” said Ray, deciding to get in on the act with a variable Scottish accent that was totally unnecessary. “We might be willing to trade a dagger for information on a man we have heard about. They call him Zero Hour.”

“Zero Hour? Zero Hour is no man,” said Diarmad. “This I’ll give you freely.”

Sara frowned. “Then what are they, if not a man?”

“A demon,” said Diarmad. “Calgachos has it in his control though and it will give us weapons to fight the Romans. Go to the meeting of the chiefs and you’ll get to see for yourself.”

“Thank you, we will,” said Ray.

Sara indicated that they should leave the gate area. More tribesmen and women were arriving and they were getting in the way. They headed for the wooden structure that had been indicated as somewhere they could bed down.

“What do you think?” asked Ray. “Zero Hour is apparently a demon, so do we still think it could be Calliope Dane?”

“Maybe they reckon all women are demons,” said Mick. He gave Sara a smirk.

“Shut up, Mick,” said Sara. She wasn’t in the mood for this. “Well, we’ve all seen her file and the picture in it, so if it is her then she should be easy to identify.”

“Great,” said Jax, “I’m all for getting this all wrapped up before we actually have to spend the night here.”

“It doesn’t look that bad,” said Martin, as they entered the building.

It smelt strongly of smoke and the odour of unwashed bodies, but Sara had stayed in worse. There were rows of blankets down each side of the long room, probably about forty or so down each side. Some had men and women occupying them, apparently trying to get some rest before the big battle. The fire was in the middle of the room on a hearth with an open hole above it. They found a space where five people could bunk down and claimed it with their own blankets.

“Okay,” said Sara, “I’m going to the meeting of the Chiefs. I’ll need a retinue, but someone needs to stay here and find out what’s been going on by talking to these people. It looks like Zero’s been here a few days at least and I’d like to know how they managed to ingratiate themselves with Calgachos and what’s in this for them.”

“I’ll go with you,” said Mick, scratching at his itchy clothing. “I’m not the talking type.”

“Whereas I’m more talking than fighting,” said Martin.

“I guess I’ll stay with Grey then,” said Jax.

“Which means that I’m with you guys,” said Ray, with a nervous smile.

Sara nodded in agreement. “Come on. Let’s go meet Zero.”

She strode back out of the long, wooden building, towards the broch, where the Chief was holding the meeting with the other chiefs. The broch was a circular stone building, the only stone building in the entire fort and where the chief held court. It was built like a dry-stone wall, with carefully selected stones stacked on top of each other, and topped with a thatched roof. It represented the pinnacle of engineering for this period.

Two tribesmen, stood at the doorway to the broch. They looked Sara up and down, and thought about stopping her.

“I am Queen Sara of the Legendes. I am here to offer my men to the fight against the invaders. Let me pass,” said Sara, using her full height and her most imposing stance. She was taught by the League of Assassins and knew how to be intimidating.

“Uh,” said one of the guards. “Of course. You are welcome here as a friend of the Caledones.”

Sara didn’t bother to answer. She didn’t think queens did that. So, she strode inside, beckoning Mick and Ray to follow her.

There was a short passageway, lit by torches and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. Inside the round chamber a fire burned in a hearth on the furthest wall, and more torches were attached to the walls. The flickering light reminded her a little of Nanda Parbat at night. The way it cast shadows across faces, and cast everyone in a yellow orange light. The floor was dark stone, covered in beautifully woven woollen rugs. The room was not large, probably smaller than the Waverider’s bridge, and it was full of the tribal chiefs who had come to pay their respects to Calgachos.

By the fire sat a figure who was obviously the chief, Calgachos, and his wooden throne was intricately carved. He had a long beard and moustache, that was copper in colour, like his long, plaited hair. Many of the other men wore their hair in a similar way. There were several people between her and the chief, and he was hard to get a proper look at the man and those who sat next to him.

Sara decided that she had to continue onwards. A tribal queen didn’t skulk in the shadows as an assassin would have done. She walked across the centre of the room, her head held high. There were murmurs around her as she passed the other chiefs. Sara only bowed her head as she arrived in front of the throne. The room was quiet now.

“And who is this?” asked the Chief.

“I am Queen Sara of the Legendes. I bring my men to fight the invaders and join you. We are few in number but good fighters.” Her eyes were still on the floor.

“Then you are welcome here, Queen Sara,” said Calgachos. “And have joined us just in time for our other new friend to give us a demonstration of her magic.”

Sara raised her head, finally looking up at Calgachos and his entourage. Beside him stood a woman. She was not dressed like Sara. She wore an ornate robe in a deep red, with gold embroidery on the lapels and edges that wove itself into patterns that even Sara could recognise as mimicking circuitry. Her hair was dark blue, the colour of a night sky and fell down over her shoulders. However, that wasn’t what was the most outstanding thing about her.

She had clearly been beautiful and perhaps some would find her that still. Sara wasn’t one of those people though. One quarter of her face was made of metal, the upper left, and a diagonal line ran from the centre of her forehead to her lower left jaw marking the transition between the flesh of her face and the metal. It was a dull silver colour, and her eyes shone bright blue with an ethereal inner light. An electronic light, Sara corrected herself. To these people, she looked like a magical being, but Sara knew that she was a product of science. She had seen enough strange things in her life to recognise this for what it was.

She took an involuntary step back, and she knew that her surprise was written across her face.

“I know that her appearance is quite unusual, but she has already proven herself to be very useful,” said Calgachos.

“It is nice to meet you, Queen Sara,” said the woman, in voice that had an electronic edge to it. “You may refer to me as Zero Hour.”

Sara bowed her head again. “As you wish. Any friend of Chief Calgachos is a friend of the Legendes.”

“I am glad to hear it,” said Zero. She looked Sara up and down with her glowing blue eyes. Then she turned to Calgachos. “Clear the floor.”

Sara stepped back into line with the rest of the chiefs, glad to no longer be the centre of attention and scrutiny.

“That’s Zero?” whispered Ray, as soon as she was far enough away that their conversation would be covered by the crowd. “She’s not Calliope Dane.”

“Yeah, so much for Rip’s suspect,” muttered Sara. “He did say he didn’t think Zero was a known Time Pirate.”

“I say we roast her now,” rumbled Mick, reaching for his gun.

“No!” whispered Sara, quickly, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed. Everyone was too busy getting ready to watch whatever demonstration Zero had planned. “We’d probably end up killing Calgachos by mistake.”

“Then we need a plan, because she’s about to give gunpowder to a bunch of savages,” said Ray.

“Laser rifles,” said Mick.

“What?” asked Ray.

“Not gunpowder, laser rifles,” said Mick, pointing towards Zero and what Chief Calgachos was now proudly holding. One of the lesser chiefs was putting a large log in the centre of the room and Calgachos was aiming at it. A second later there was a burst of blue light and the log had burst into flames. The room erupted with cheering.

“That is very bad,” said Sara.

***

Rip took his time waking up. His brain felt dull and the move back to consciousness was necessarily slow, probably because the sedative was only just wearing off. He was familiar with the sounds of the medbay on the Waverider and he knew that he was safe as pieces of memory slotted back into place. His only slight issue was the lack of friendly faces there at his awakening, and the fact that he was still feeling the effects of the time jump. It took him a few seconds to remember that the other members of his team were currently out on a mission, which was why no one was there to note his return to wakefulness. Of course, the very idea that anyone would be there when he awoke was something new. He’d spent most of his years on the Waverider waking up to no one but Gideon.

He groaned as he tried to move and then remembered why that was a bad idea at the moment. His muscles ached fiercely and he was too hot.

“Gideon,” he muttered.

“Yes, Captain, I’m here.”

“Status report, please,” said Rip, blinking up at the ceiling. The bright light was hurting his eyes again. “And could you also lower the lights in medbay by 10%.”

The lights dimmed a little and Rip’s eyes were much more comfortable. “Thank you,” he sighed at the relief.

“We have landed in AD 84, close to the Pictish settlement of Durno. The rest of the team have dressed in period appropriate garments and gone to investigate the arms deal and locate Zero Hour. So far no one has checked in, but Ms Lance suggested they should restrict their use of technology in this period.”

“At least someone was paying attention,” said Rip. “Patch them through if they do call in.”

“Of course, Captain,” said Gideon.

Rip turned to look at the readouts on the screen behind his couch, but found that the effort was too much and he gave up trying before it caused him to pass out.

“Perhaps you could also give me a report on my personal status,” said Rip.

“Your temperature is 38.1°C, but has dropped half a degree in the last hour. Your body was placed under considerable stress by the time jump, which resulted in a worsening of your ‘flu symptoms and an imbalance in your electrolytes, which I have corrected. Your immune system was further weakened by the jump, but should recover given sufficient time.” Gideon managed to sound somewhat disapproving whilst giving out these facts.

“Understood, Gideon. How long before I can jump again?” he asked.

“I would recommend that you rest for at least 48hrs before jumping again,” said Gideon. “However, a longer rest period would be advisable if you don’t want to repeat the experience that you had on your last jump.”

“Duly noted,” said Rip. He didn’t miss Gideon’s unspoken comment on his idiocy of doing it even once. Still, it would all be worth it to remove Zero Hour from the timeline. “I might as well just stay here for a bit then,” he added.

“I would suggest you sleep for another twelve hours before attempting to leave the medbay,” replied Gideon.

“That will not be a difficult instruction to follow,” said Rip, and closed his eyes.

***

“She’s a demon,” said one of the men that Jax had found to talk to. “She uses magic to make fire.”

“Okay, but how did she get here?” asked Jax.

The man shrugged. “Some of the women talked about a sky chariot. It faded away when it landed.”

“A sky chariot,” mused Jax. “That’s… something.”

He could see Martin coming back from talking to the woman that he’d been getting information from. He looked like he’d managed to learn something, so Jax thanked the man for his help and went towards Martin.

“Apparently Zero is a glowing demon who arrived in a "sky chariot",” said Martin.

“Yeah, I got the sky chariot bit too from that guy,” said Jax. “So, we’re thinking there’s a timeship out there somewhere.”

“It would make sense,” said Martin.

“Did you get the detail that it faded away when it landed? Does that remind you of anything?”

Martin nodded. “The Waverider’s cloaking device.”

“Do Time Pirate ships come with cloaks?” asked Jax.

“I have no idea. I think we may have to ask our Captain that one,” said Martin. “However, the description which people have given me of Zero Hour doesn’t sound anything like Calliope Dane.”

“Yeah, something about blue hair, which just sounds weird,” said Jax. “Did you get any idea of where the ship might be?”

Martin shook his head. “Although it seemed to be the women who saw the “sky chariot” so perhaps it’s somewhere they go?”

“I think we should find Sara,” said Jax.

“Yes, but I doubt we’ll be able to get into the chiefs’ meeting,” said Martin.

“How about we do a little reconnaissance instead then?” suggested Jax.

Martin looked around him and considered this for a moment. “Well, they do have to move these weapons somehow. Perhaps a quick tour of the fort is in order to ascertain the lie of the land.”

Jax gave Martin a smile. “Come on then, let’s go see what we can find out.”

The two halves of Firestorm headed out of the building, and after a brief discussion, decided to walk the perimeter of the fort. Jax saw a chance whilst no one was watching, and headed up a handy ladder onto the battlements.

“Jefferson, come down from there! Someone will see you!” said Martin, checking whether they were being watched.

“Just give me a minute,” said Jax. He looked over the wooden wall, first towards where they’d parked the Waverider, but he couldn’t even see the trees that the ship was hidden amongst. There was a river running not far from the fort in the other direction, and a group of women were down by the water. It took him a moment to realise that they were washing clothes. He turned back towards Martin and headed down the ladder quickly.

“I think the ship is near the river,” said Jax.

“How have you worked that out?” asked Martin.

“The women in this fort go down to the river to wash the clothes,” said Jax. “I’d bet you anything that they saw the ship down there first.”

“Well done, Jefferson,” said Martin. He hit his com. “Sara, we think we might have a lead on the ship that Zero Hour has been using.”

The reply was whispered. “Okay, good, but it looks like we’re going to be stuck here at an impromptu weapons demo for a bit longer. It would look strange if we go now.”

“Weapons demo?” asked Martin, “actually, I think I can imagine. Jefferson and I can check out the ship location on our own. We’ll get back to you if we find anything.”

“Be very careful. We just met Zero Hour and she is not what I was expecting at all,” replied Sara.

“We heard,” said Martin. “We’ll be extremely careful.”

“Okay, check-in in an hour, or we’ll come looking for you,” said Sara.

“Understood,” said Martin, and broke the connection.

“Come on then,” said Jax, heading back towards the gate.

“Wait, should we perhaps discuss our means of approach?” asked Martin, with that intense look that he got in situations where he was worried.

“We’re looking for an invisible spaceship, I think we’re just going to have to feel our way,” said Jax.

Martin threw his hands up in the air, “Jefferson! I was thinking of something a little more subtle,” but followed Jax out of the gate and down the hill towards the river. It was a short walk, but the weather hadn’t gotten any better in the last few hours. Jax and Martin clutched their cloaks about themselves, walking swiftly. They crossed the river at a set of stepping stones that someone had installed in the stream. Martin nearly overbalanced and fell in, but Jax grabbed hold of his hand before the worst could happen.

Once they were on the other side of the river it was a matter of walking the field until they hit something, because neither Martin nor Jax could come up with any other way of finding the ship. Which was only the first problem because then they’d have to work out how to get inside. They spent a while, simply walking up and down across the open area, probably looking quite ridiculous, but then Jax spotted something.

“Hey, does that tree look weird to you?” asked Jax. To him it looked as if the branches were distorted slightly, like he was seeing them through the kind of glass they used for funhouse mirrors.

Martin frowned. His eyes were watering. “Maybe, I have to confess that these contact lenses are beginning to irritate my eyes somewhat. It could be something.”

“It’s a little like the moment when the Waverider’s camouflage engages, before it disappears completely,” said Jax, heading towards the slight kink in reality that he’d identified. “Come on, let’s take a closer look.”

“Jefferson, wait. Sara said that we need to be careful,” said Martin, dashing after the younger man.

Jax’s rapid progress towards the anomaly came to something of a crashing halt as he went straight into the invisible ship, giving himself a good bang on the head. The momentum was enough to leave him reeling from the self-inflicted blow.

“Jefferson! Are you alright?” asked Martin. Jax felt him arrive rather than saw him because he was too busy trying to shake off the pain in his head. He knew that Martin was probably also feeling some of it across their mental link. Being two halves of a whole could have its downsides.

“I thought it’d be further away,” said Jax.

“Yes, well the whole point of the optical camouflage is that it creates that illusion,” replied Martin. “Still, apart from the stunning pain in my head, which I imagine you are feeling considerably more, I don’t believe any permanent damage has been done. Let’s see if we can find the way in.”

It was about this point that they heard the familiar sound of a ship’s hatch opening. A gap made itself obvious in the cloak, and they could now see inside the ship. However, before either half of Firestorm could celebrate their good fortune at finding the way in, they were faced with the metal bodies of two robots disembarking, with several more behind them.

“Halt, intruders!” said the machine voices of the robots. Jax immediately recognised them from their excursion to 2147 as the enforcers based on Ray Palmer’s suit technology.

“Oh dear,” said Martin. “I think we should…”

Jax already had his hand out prepared to merge into Firestorm.

***

“Captain Hunter!”

Rip jerked himself into consciousness. He found himself still in medbay, and feeling only marginally better than earlier. “I’m awake!” he said, taking in a gasp of air. Gideon’s tone was unmistakeable, and he wondered how many times she’d called him before he woke up. Something was up, because she wouldn’t have woken him otherwise. He looked around himself finding medbay empty apart from himself. “What’s going on?”

“I have detected that another ship has just decloaked in the area,” said Gideon, “and I am picking up a distress signal from Mr Jackson and Professor Stein.”

“Priorities, Gideon,” said Rip.

“I believe one is the cause of the other,” replied Gideon. “And that is the order that events took place in.”

Rip detached the cuff from around his right wrist, knowing that he was going to very much regret what he was about to do. He hauled himself into a seated position, with a groan as the room swam and he had to hang onto the arm rests of the chair so that he didn’t fall sideways.

“I was really hoping that the vertigo would be gone by now,” he muttered to himself, and then had to wait while a coughing fit subsided. Well, at least it wasn’t so bad that he couldn’t move. Gideon had given him some good painkillers, so the aches in his muscles were down to a background hurt rather than their previous bright flare.

He carefully moved from sitting in the chair to upright by putting his feet firmly on the floor, and gently, slowly levering himself into a standing position. He wavered, but didn’t fall, and gave himself a moment before he started walking. So far so good. He stuck close to the bulkhead, and occasionally put out a hand to steady himself as his inner ear decided to redirect his brain about where the floor was every so often. The effect was to make him feel a little queasy and he was very glad to reach the bridge and collapse into the pilot’s chair.

He tapped on the controls that would bring up the readout of where the other ship was and found it to their northwest. He could now see Firestorm fighting.

“Gideon, are those…?”

“Yes, Captain. Firestorm are engaged in fighting eight mechanised infantry robots which most likely originated in the Kasnia Conglomerate,” said Gideon.

“Get me Sara,” said Rip, tersely. “Ms Lance, what is your status?”

“Our status is that we’re watching Picts play with laser guns,” was the whispered and annoyed reply. “What are you even doing up?”

“Gideon woke me to tell me that Firestorm are currently engaged in battling eight robots to the north of Durno, where there appears to be a cloaked ship. Perhaps you _might_ want to turn your attention to that, because whilst Firestorm are holding their own, they are considerably outnumbered,” replied Rip.

“Shit!” was the reply. Then silence, although Rip could hear some kind of kerfuffle in the background. “I’m going to have to call you back.”

“Sara?” There was no reply. “Sara!”

Rip thumped back in his seat with frustration. Normally he’d have dashed off to save the day, either towards Firestorm and their problem, or Durno and Sara’s issue, whatever that was. However, even he wasn’t foolhardy enough to attempt it given his current lack of strength and balance.

“Gideon, power weapons. I think we need to give Firestorm a hand,” said Rip, his hands dancing across the controls.

“Yes, Captain. Powering weapons.”

He pulled the restraining bar down, more to keep himself upright than because he was worried about turbulence, and lifted the cloaked Waverider into the sky. He coughed harshly, trying to ignore the feelings of losing his balance once again, at the motion of the ship. The cough was continuing to annoy him and seemed to be getting worse again now he was upright.

“Waverider to Firestorm. I’m coming in from behind you. You may want to back up a little,” he said.

“Gotcha,” replied Jax. “Should you be flying right now?”

Rip let out an annoyed sigh, as he manoeuvred the ship into position to fire on the flying robots. “Well, I can go back to bed if you’d prefer to fight them on your own.”

“Nah, the assist is appreciated,” replied Jax, as he took down one of the robots, and then came in underneath the Waverider so that Rip could open fire.

“Gideon, target the robots and fire,” said Rip.

“Firing,” replied Gideon, and Rip watched as his ship tore apart the attackers.

“Good shooting, Gideon,” said Rip, with enthusiasm. Apparently it was too much enthusiasm because it began another fit of coughing.

“Thank you,” said Gideon.

“Er, Rip, I think that may just have been the first wave,” said Jax.

Rip looked over to see that Jax was right. There were many more robots exiting the hatch.

“Oh hell,” he murmured. This was going to be rather more difficult than he had first thought.


	4. Burn Them and Run

Rip’s call had not come at a good time, although Sara didn’t realise that until she looked up to see Zero Hour staring at her intently. They’d just watched the woman explain how to use the weapons she had delivered. Calgachos had talked proudly about the high quality of the local ore that she’d been given in payment for the weapons, and had apparently already taken delivery of. This was strange but made at least some slight sense as payment, although it was a mystery as to why she needed it from here. What made less sense was that the gold embroidery on her gown was glowing with a yellow light.

Zero Hour pointed at Sara.

“The woman, Queen Sara, speaks with demons. She is an agent of Rome,” shouted Zero.

“Shit!” It was totally clear now that she knew Sara had been talking to someone on a radio that shouldn’t have existed in this period.

“Take her and her companions,” said Zero.

“I’m going to have to call you back,” she said to Rip, and then turned to face their attackers.

“Boys,” she said quietly, to Mick and Ray, as she pulled a knife and sword from their sheaths. “I really hope that you’re ready to fight your way out of here. We need to grab those guns and get back to the Waverider.”

“How about we just burn them and run?” said Mick, with insane eagerness. He drew his heat gun, and suddenly Sara was very glad that she’d let him bring it.

“I’m actually good with that,” replied Ray, moving to stand at Sara’s back and drawing his sword.

“No killing,” said Sara.

Mick let a burst of fire out towards the ground and everyone took a step back from the trio. Sara twirled her sword experimentally. The laser rifles were tantalisingly close to being within range of Mick’s gun.

“Rush them you idiots!” said Zero Hour, which was apparently all the urging they needed, because the Picts did exactly that.

“Morons,” was Mick’s only appraisal of the situation. He side stepped the first wave and opened fire. Suddenly the room was alight, especially the area where the futuristic weapons were sat. It looked like they wouldn’t have to worry about them anymore, which meant that at least they’d managed to deal with one part of the mission.

Meanwhile Sara was now facing three rather irate tribesmen who wanted her blood. She kicked out, breaking the leg of the first one, and sending him tumbling to the ground. The other two she took on with the sword, catching both their blades, and a swift slice with the dagger to their belts. Both men were left with their pants around their ankles, and tripped over their own clothes.

Ray, who had wisely worn his Atom suit underneath his period costume, ditched his sword and opened fire with only enough power to push people back rather than injure them permanently. However, suddenly all three Legends found themselves hit by a strange blue light that threw them to the ground. Zero Hour stood over them.

“Finally, I get to meet you,” said Zero. “You who have caused me so much pain and difficulty.”

“It’s in the job description, Lady,” replied Mick, struggling to his feet. “Nothing personal.”

Again, Sara noticed that the embroidery on her dress was glowing, but this time it was blue.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be selling weapons to primitive people,” chipped in Ray, as he too pushed himself to his feet. “Then we wouldn’t have to come after you.”

“You arrogant little plebs,” said Zero. “You think you can take over where the Time Masters left off? Why would you even try? You’re a joke. Hardly worth my effort, except for the delicious fun that I will have with you. And you _will_ pay for what you did.” She turned away, walking through the chaos as if it didn’t exist. Her hands glowed with an inner blue light, that shoved anyone who came near her away. “ _He_ will pay,” she added. “Him and her, they will _both_ pay, but especially _him_.”

Sara scrambled back into an upright position and was on her feet, running towards Zero. She could already feel the bruises forming on her back from where she’d hit the ground hard. Her sword was raised high above her head. “It was you, wasn’t it? You made Rip sick.”

She was about to bring the sword down on her quarry’s head without giving her a moment to answer, but a bolt of blue light coming in her direction made her fling herself out of harm’s way. She crashed to the ground again, looking up towards Zero as she walked out of the broch, framed in the light of the door.

Zero’s mouth twitched into a smile. “I got what I came for. Tell your Captain to say hello to Lieutenant Coburn for me.”

“Wait…” began Ray, but he was interrupted by the need to fight off another Pict.

“Who _are_ you?” asked Sara, with anger. She didn’t get an answer, as she also found herself under attack again and her sword was no longer in her hand. She tripped a female Pict on her way to stab Mick and then stood to pitch a male opponent over her shoulder, scooping her sword back up from the ground.

“She’s running,” she shouted, with a wave towards the door. She gave the briefest of glances back towards her teammates and noted that they were holding their own. She ran outside just in time to see two flying robots swoop down and pick up Zero Hour, as if they were hawks picking up prey. Zero had obviously arranged for a ride back to her ship.

Ray and Mick tumbled out of the broch behind her, and stopped for a second to take in the sight of Zero being carried away, blinking in the light.

“That’s unexpected,” said Ray. “I’ll follow her.”

“No,” said Sara. “Too many witnesses, wait until we’re outside the fort. Come on, we know where her ship is.” She ran towards the nearest gate out of the fort.

She glanced back to check that Mick and Ray were both following her and found them hot on her heels. They pushed through the throng of people around the gate, with Mick moving forwards and shamelessly using his bulk to clear them a passage. No one seemed inclined to try to stop them. She supposed that she looked quite the sight with her sword in one hand and knife in the other, running at full pelt with her hair flying out behind her.

Once outside the fort, she realised that they would have been able to work out where the ship was even without Rip’s directions. Firestorm was currently fighting off a small platoon of flying robots, whilst the Waverider was picking its shots carefully to avoid hitting their team mate, as more robots swarmed around it. Occasionally Firestorm would withdraw completely so that they were underneath the Waverider and the ship would let rip with all guns blazing. Stray shots revealed a camouflaged ship behind the robots.

“Firestorm, Waverider, you’ve got Zero coming your way and she’s got some kind of energy weapon,” said Sara.

“Quite frankly, that would be the least of our problems right at this moment,” came a familiar, but rather snarky reply. “We are somewhat outnumbered and neither the Waverider, nor Firestorm can continue to take this kind of fire for much longer.” There was the sound of something breaking over the com link.

Sara could see that Zero was flying down towards her ship and that a few of the robots had broken off to form a guard around her, protecting her from incoming fire.

“Ray?” asked Sara. “I think we should be good now.”

“On it,” said Ray, powering up his suit and flying down towards the fight.

Sara and Mick followed him at a dead run, but could only watch as Zero disappeared into her ship and then the robots began to withdraw too.

“What the hell?” she asked. The Legends took down a few more of the robots, but by then the ship was engaging engines, lifting up, and speeding away. There was a small flash of light as the ship jumped into the timestream.

“Damn it!” shouted Sara.

***

“Gideon, track them,” said Rip, followed by a coughing fit. Sparks flew around the bridge. The Waverider had taken considerable damage. Rip was also once again feeling terrible. The painkillers that Gideon had given him earlier seemed to be wearing off and it was too hot and he couldn’t stop the occasional shiver running through his body. He rubbed sweat out of his eyes.

“Yes, Captain,” said Gideon. “Although that may be difficult. They appear to have some kind of temporal interference device similar to the one used by the Pilgrim.”

“Do the best you can and then plot us a new course to follow them,” said Rip.

“Captain, you are not well enough to survive another time jump,” said Gideon.

“Just do as I ask, Gideon,” said Rip, allowing the annoyance to creep into his tone. He set the Waverider down on the ground gently, but had to stop to cough again before issuing his next order. “Let me know as soon as the team are on board, and initiate repairs.”

“Yes, Captain. There is something else that you should be aware of,” said Gideon.

“And what would that be?” asked Rip, resigned to a further lecture.

“I was able to identify the ship when the hatch was open, breaching their cloak. The identity signal belonged to the Helios,” said Gideon.

Rip was momentarily stunned, and took his hands away from the Waverider’s controls. “The Helios… Let’s see, her AI was, er, Godiva? I assume you followed protocol?”

“Yes, Captain. I attempted to make contact. However, something was wrong,” said Gideon.

“I had rather assumed that, but go on,” said Rip.

“Godiva was not herself,” said Gideon.

“Not herself?” asked Rip. “You’re going to need to be more specific, Gideon.”

“If she were a human, then I would suggest that she was suffering from dementia,” said the AI, using her most serious tone.

Rip’s forehead creased into a perplexed look. “I didn’t think that was possible.”

“She did not remember me,” said Gideon, “despite the fact that we have communicated on a number of occasions.”

Rip didn’t like the sound of that. AIs like Gideon were robust and something desperate must have happened to the Helios for it to effect Godiva in such a way. However, Rip was now remembering that the Helios had been the last ship to pursue the only suspect they had for Zero Hour’s real identity – Calliope Dane. That seemed like a very big coincidence and definitely required further investigation.

“What about her Captain?” he asked. “The last I heard the Helios was Captain Hera Meaden’s ship.”

“Godiva was unable to give me any name other than Zero Hour as her Captain,” said Gideon.

“So somehow Zero got hold of a Time Master ship,” speculated Rip. “Which would make sense if the AI is malfunctioning and none of her safeguards are working.”

“Indeed, Captain,” said Gideon. “Also, the team are back on board.”

Rip tapped a finger on the console. They needed to follow Zero, otherwise they risked losing the trail again. However, another jump so close to the previous one would be even less pleasant than before and could very well result in his death. Just to underline that, a moment of vertigo left him grabbing for the console to help him maintain his balance even though he was sat still. He closed his eyes and waited for the attack to pass.

“Rip?” asked an urgent voice. It was Jax, the first of his crew to make it to the bridge, and now rather urgently checking his pulse with two fingers at his neck and his eyes on his wristwatch. “Hey, man, you shouldn’t even be up.”

“I’m fine,” he managed, finally leaning back in his seat and looking up at Jax. He was breathing hard, but doing his best to act as normally as he could.

“Yeah, that’s why you’re white as a sheet and sweating buckets,” replied Jax, looking up from his watch. “Gideon, ready the medbay.”

“Of course, Mr Jackson.”

“That will not be necessary, Gideon, I don’t need the services of medbay,” said Rip, dismissively, “we have an escaped arms dealer to locate. Now, perhaps we could get back to work?”

“Your pulse is racing and you’re sat still. Even I know that isn’t good.”

“I just need some sleep,” said Rip, coughing into his hand.

“Yeah, I’m not buying that one either.” Jax lifted the restraining bar on Rip’s seat, and offered him a hand up. Rip gave him an annoyed look, his meaning clear – he did not need help.

Jax put his head on one side. “Yeah, go on, give it a try on your own. If you can make it to the parlour, I’ll leave you alone.”

It was then that Sara, Ray, Martin and Mick entered the bridge, clearly discussing what had just happened. The conversation stopped when they saw Jax and Rip.

“What’s going on?” asked Sara, looking at Rip with suspicion.

“He’s refusing to go back to the medbay,” said Jax.

“Rip, you look like crap. Go back to the medbay, get Gideon to give you the good drugs, and sleep this off. We’re not going anywhere until we can locate Zero again,” said Sara.

“Well, we might want to park the ship somewhere less suspicious,” said Ray. “I mean the locals did just see us have a battle with a bunch of ATOM robots.”

“Good point,” said Sara. “Okay, we’re going to move the ship, but other than that, we’re not going anywhere.”

“Actually, I have been tracking Zero’s ship,” said Rip, ignoring Jax’s frustrated look. “And there’s something you all need to know about it.”

“We’re not going to like this, are we?” asked Ray.

“It’s not an unexpected development,” replied Rip, trying to suppress another bout of coughing and failing. He waved off Jax’s help as the jarring movement triggered his vertigo again and he wobbled in his chair. He had to grab hold of the side to steady himself, but succeeded in not overbalancing.

“Get to the point,” said Mick.

“The ship that Zero is using was part of the Time Master fleet. It’s the Helios. Gideon tells me that the AI, Godiva is still present but malfunctioning. How Zero got hold of it… well, your guess is as good as mine at this point,” finished Rip.

“So, she has all the firepower and time travel capabilities of a ship like the Waverider?” asked Sara.

“Yes,” said Rip. “Although a malfunctioning AI might slow her down a little. Which, I suppose, is something. The Helios was the last ship to attempt to capture Calliope Dane, which I can’t help but feel is something more than just a coincidence.”

“Yeah, well, Zero isn’t Calliope Dane,” said Sara. “She’s some kind of cyborg metahuman or something.”

“Interesting,” said Rip. “And how did you come to discover this?” He had his suspicions about how the mission had been conducted and the damage to the timeline which would be the inevitable result.

“The blue glowing eyes gave it away,” said Mick.

“Yeah, and half her face was made of metal,” added Ray.

“And she had a weird robe with a kind of glowing circuit board pattern embroidered on it,” added Sara. “I think it’s what gave us away. It glowed when we used our radios.”

“It could have been something that detected radio waves, or even just electrical signals,” said Ray. “It could even just have been some kind of antenna for her cyborg computer components. I’d need to get hold of it and take a closer look to be sure.”

“Please tell me that you at least destroyed the weapons,” said Rip.

“Yes, and you’re welcome,” said Mick, with a gleam in his eye. “I also burnt the remains of the robot army for you.”

“And did the settlement of Durno survive it?”

“Don’t worry, we were careful,” said Sara. “They may need a new thatch for their broch though.”

Rip sighed, and coughed. “Gideon, please check who won the battle of Mons Graupius.”

“The Romans, Captain, commanded by Governor Gnaeus Julius Agricola. The victory was decisive. There are no records of either side using technologically superior weapons.”

“See?” said Sara, smugly.

“Yes, well done, but we still didn’t capture Zero,” pointed out Rip. “And given that she’s currently making it very hard to track her, we’ll probably have to wait for another aberration to appear before we can work out where she’s gone.”

“In which case, you might as well go and get some rest while we look for it,” said Sara. “And that cough of yours sounds terrible.”

“Come on, Rip, you’re just being stubborn now,” said Jax, offering his hand again. “At least go back to your quarters and get some sleep.”

“Or we could get Mick to carry you there again,” suggested Ray, with a mischievous smile.

Rip gave his entire crew an annoyed look, before resigning himself to doing what they wanted with a shake of his head. “Well, I suppose since we have time… I’ll be in my quarters if anyone needs me.”

He took the hand that Jax offered and got to his feet as naturally as he could manage. He might feel terrible but the rest of the crew didn’t need to know that. He couldn’t quite ignore the fact that his legs felt like rubber and at any moment the floor wanted to pitch him sideways. He shut his eyes and Jax’s grip tightened on him.

He felt Jax throw his arm over his shoulder and then someone was doing the same on the other side. From the height, he decided that it was Ray.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go back to medbay?” asked Ray.

“Definitely. It’s just ‘flu exacerbated by a time jump…” murmured Rip, as they walked him off the bridge. “I just need some rest. In my own bed.”

“Whatever you say, man,” said Jax, clearly somewhat sceptical.

It felt like it was a long walk back to his quarters, and he had rarely been so pleased to sink down onto his bed. Or to be more precise, he was deposited on his bed by Jax and Ray. His energy had pretty much given out at that point.

“Hey, take your painkillers,” said Jax. “They’ll help you sleep.”

Rip took the pills that were offered and drank the glass of water that was held out towards him. “Thank you.”

“Just get some rest and feel better,” said Jax.

“Get Gideon to call us if you need anything,” added Ray.

Rip curled himself up in the blankets and fell asleep, utterly exhausted.

***

“Gideon, what are the chances of us being able to actually track Zero?” asked Sara, taking her seat at the navigation console.

“Not terribly good, Ms Lance,” replied Gideon. “I was able to track them partially and Captain Hunter asked me to plot an appropriate course but I don’t believe it will take us to our target’s location.”

“Okay, scrap that then. We’re not jumping anywhere for a few days, no matter what Rip says. I’m not putting him through another jump like that. Find us a quiet place that we can move the ship to and hole up for a few days while we plan our next move.”

“Of course, Ms Lance,” said Gideon. “There is a rather scenic uninhabited glen a few miles to our northwest.”

“Sounds perfect,” said Sara, powering up the engines and lifting the Waverider up into the air. She steered the ship to the location that Gideon had pinpointed for them, and set the ship down again. She’d found that she quite enjoyed flying, at least under normal circumstances. It wasn’t quite so much fun when you knew that you had a Time Pirate on your tail or the only reason you were doing it was because Gideon was offline. Or even when you knew that a time jump would probably make the Captain of the ship you were flying very ill indeed but you had to chase down a temporal arms dealer, who you then failed to capture. Sara was feeling just a little guilty about that.

Rip had looked terrible when they’d returned. If anything, he looked worse than earlier, and she really should have made him go back to the medbay, but she didn’t have the heart. He clearly disliked the place and she wasn’t surprised by that. Rip liked his privacy and medbay didn’t afford much of that. He kept himself to himself, and wasn’t very forthcoming with personal details unless he really couldn’t help it. Not only that, because Gideon’s technology was so advanced, it was rare to spend more than a day receiving medical care on the Waverider, but Rip had now spent roughly five days stuck in medbay over the last week, which had to be frustrating for him. Being ill was never fun, being this ill was a special kind of misery.

Jax came back onto the bridge with Ray just as they were landing.

“You put him to bed?” she asked.

“Yeah, he’s looking worse again,” said Jax.

Ray was frowning. “I know the time jump set him back, but shouldn’t he be shaking that off by now and back to how he was yesterday?”

Martin was shaking his head. “We don’t know what to expect, I’m afraid. Captain Hunter doesn’t seem to think this is unusual.”

“But he could just be trying not to worry us,” said Jax.

“Which is exactly the kind of idiotic thing he’d do,” said Sara, getting out of the pilot’s chair and coming over to the main console, where the others had gathered around the monitors. “Okay, so for the moment, Rip’s out of commission, but we still need to find Zero Hour. What do we know?”

“Well, we know that she’s not completely human,” said Ray. “And we know she was paid in local ore. The question is, what’s so special about it that she’d have to come her to get it?”

“Perhaps we should look at the geological make-up of the area,” suggested Martin, tapping on the screen to bring up the relevant documents. He pulled up a map for everyone to view. “Mainly copper and silver mining by the looks of it. Very common. There doesn’t appear to be anything particularly special here.”

“Which isn’t much help,” said Jax.

“Something to ponder upon then,” said Martin. “Did you get any idea of how much ore she took in payment?”

Sara shook her head. “The deal had been done by the time we got there and Calgachos just said that it was a fair amount.”

“And we had bad guys to burn,” pointed out Mick.

“We should look at Calliope Dane again. Rip seemed to think that even if she isn’t Zero, she’s connected to this somehow,” said Sara. “All her weapons deals matched up with locations where we tracked aberrations caused by Zero.”

“And the Helios was the last Time Master ship to attempt to capture her,” said Ray. “It could be that something went wrong and Calliope captured the ship. It wouldn’t be the first time a Time Pirate got the better of a Time Master.”

“But then how did Zero get hold of it?” asked Jax. “And how did the AI get damaged? The camouflage grid wasn’t working properly either, so something happened to the Helios.”

“Maybe Calliope is actually Zero and she had her face altered or something?” suggested Ray.

“That doesn’t explain her powers,” said Sara.

“That’s all very fascinating but not terribly helpful when it comes to finding Zero,” said Martin.

“I think we need to go over Calliope Dane’s file and work out if there are any locations that she had contacts in that Zero hasn’t hit yet,” said Sara. “In fact, I think I need to do that because Jax needs to help Gideon repair the ship, Martin and Ray still need to finish the anti-viral just in case we need it, and Mick…”

“…has beer to drink,” stated the arsonist. “Call me when you need me to burn stuff again.”

Mick left them to it, probably heading off to find the aforementioned beer. Sara just gave a roll of her eyes and went back to looking at the display.

“Are you sure that the anti-viral is the best use of our time?” asked Martin. “I doubt it would shorten Captain Hunter’s illness by much at this point and none of us have come down with any symptoms.”

Sara shook her head. “It isn’t that. Zero said some things as she was making her escape.”

“Like what?” asked Jax.

“That she’d make us pay for something that we did to her. That she’d make _him_ pay, and I think she meant Rip. And then she told me to tell him to say hello to Lieutenant Coburn, whoever that is,” said Sara.

“That does sound kind of ominous,” said Ray.

“Yeah, so either we got lucky and Rip beat this thing, or it’s not over yet,” said Sara.

“And we never get lucky,” said Ray, with a worried glance at the other Legends.

Sara had to agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical note: The only account of this period that we really have was written by Tacitus. It's part of the speech that he wrote for Calgachos to make to his troops before the battle of Mons Graupius that Rip misquotes to Savage in "River of Time". The Governor of Britain was Tacitus father in law, and he was trying to get in his good books so he made the account of the battle of Mons Graupius very flattering to the Romans. He was also quite scathing about the level of civilisation that the local tribes had. Archaeology suggests that Tacitus was overly harsh and the Picts weren't quite the savages he portrayed. They built structures and had hill forts. Brochs (round stone towers that appears in settlements from this period) are something of a mystery, one theory is that they were used as meeting places, but they could equally have just been grain stores.


	5. A Strong Tendency Towards Imprudence

When Rip awoke, he found that his cough had worsened. He checked the clock by his bed and discovered that he’d slept well into the night. The rest of his team would be fast asleep by now, but his temperature was up again, judging by the way sweat was pouring off him, and he still ached. It was actually painful to breathe now, and he wouldn’t have believed before this point that was possible from a mere virus. He reached over and grabbed the painkillers from his bedside table. He shook the usual two out onto his hand and took them. He hoped that once they kicked in he’d be able to sleep, but the cough was keeping him awake just as much as the aches.

After an hour of trying to get comfortable again and failing, he gave up. He pulled on a fresh set of pyjamas to replace the now slightly sweat dampened ones, and his dressing gown, and put his feet into his slippers. He pushed himself to his feet and shakily made his way around his bed. The vertigo seemed to have gone which was at least something. He found himself breathing hard and wheezing a little at the movement though.

“Captain, you should return to bed,” said Gideon. “If you need something then I will wake one of the crew.”

“Thank you, Gideon,” he wheezed between coughs. “But what I really need is a change of scenery.” He was planning to head to the galley and make himself a hot drink. He felt like he needed to do something mundane to prove to himself that he didn’t always have to rely on his crew.

“Perhaps that change of scenery should be to move to medbay,” replied Gideon.

“Et tu, Gideon?” asked Rip, as he ran a hand across the door opener, and he briefly leaned against the doorway before stepping out into the corridor. His AI could be ridiculously, and unnecessarily, protective. He shivered at the change in temperature between his quarters and the corridor.

“It would be easier to monitor your condition and I could administer drugs more effectively,” said Gideon.

“I’m on the mend, Gideon. I’m much better than I was a couple of days ago,” said Rip, despite evidence to the contrary that he was currently ignoring.

“Your temperature is not as high, but you are still fighting off a particularly virulent strain of influenza,” said Gideon.

“I am aware of that, thank you,” Rip replied with annoyance, and a glance up at the ceiling towards where he knew one of Gideon’s cameras was.

Gideon didn’t reply to that. She’d probably given up and decided that if he was going to do something stupid then she should just let him and deal with the consequences. This had certainly been one of her tactics in the past. However, Rip was determined to disregard her and do this, even if it took him a couple of hours, and given current progress, it just might. Illness was just an inconvenience as far as he was concerned and he could push through it if he put his mind to it.

Rip stayed close to the wall and walked slowly. His legs were sore and he had very little strength so hopefully this would exhaust him and then he could sleep. He headed towards the galley, occasionally resting by leaning against the corridor wall. This was getting to be his usual method of making his way around the ship, which was somewhat depressing. The ship was quiet and no one was there to witness his weakness, something that he was very glad of. He hated being seen by his crew in such a state.

He entered the galley, Gideon putting the lights on as he walked in. He headed for the counter and the kettle, turning it on whilst he moved to get a mug and tea. Gideon was quite capable of fabricating him a cup of tea, but it never tasted quite the same as one which had been made from scratch. He used the counter to lean against as he waited for the kettle to boil. Every movement was costing him valuable energy and he could feel his aching muscles protesting more by the minute.

He was aware of his heart beating rapidly in his chest and he realised that it didn’t just hurt to breathe, it was actually difficult to get enough air into his lungs following his exertions. Each breath was accompanied by a wheeze that didn’t sound at all healthy. Perhaps this stroll to the galley really hadn’t been a good idea.

The kettle clicked off and Rip realised with considerable dismay that he barely had enough strength to lift the kettle with water in it. It was a real effort just to pour the water over the teabag. He was slumming it slightly, usually he’d have selected the loose leaf tea and a teapot, but he wasn’t enthusiastic about the extra steps that involved tonight. He added a spot of milk to his mug and removed the teabag with a spoon, depositing it into the waste recycling.

He carefully picked up the mug using both hands and slowly shuffled to the nearest seat. He put the mug down first on the table and then lowered himself into the seat, leaning back with relief as he sucked air into his lungs. He picked up his tea, blew on it to cool it a little and sipped the liquid tentatively. It tasted subtly wrong. The ‘flu was messing up his sense of taste so that he wasn’t even allowed to enjoy a nice cup of tea. He sighed with frustration and then had to put the mug down rapidly so that he could cough.

“Were you always this much of an idiot or is it a recent thing?” asked the familiar voice of a blonde-haired assassin. She was leaning against the doorframe regarding him with an expression that suggested she wasn’t at all surprised to find him out of bed at 3am in the morning.

Rip gave her a resigned look, and took a second sip of his tea. “Oh, I believe I’ve always had a strong tendency towards imprudence. You’ll have to ask Mother about that though.”

“Next time we’re at the Refuge I’ll be sure to do that,” replied Sara. “And maybe I can also ask her how she didn’t go crazy trying to stop you from killing yourself.”

“She’d probably tell you that she did go crazy,” said Rip, wryly, a particular memory of a broken arm at the forefront of his mind. He’d been a handful as a child and he was forever grateful to his adoptive mother for coping magnificently with that. “Did Gideon give me up?”

“Nope, I was just working late,” said Sara. “I think I’ve narrowed down Zero’s next stop to one of three locations.”

“Good work,” said Rip, with genuine praise. “How did you manage that?”

“We decided that the Calliope Dane connection was worth looking into more. She had deals in three more time periods that Zero hasn’t been to yet. Or at least she hasn’t caused aberrations in yet.” Sara gave a self-deprecating shrug, but Rip had a fairly good idea of how much combing through files this had taken.

“Any idea where she’ll go first?” asked Rip.

Sara shook her head. “None, and I can’t think of any way to eliminate two of the three. So really this was just wasted effort.” She headed over to one of the cupboards and took out a large bag of potato chips. They were chilli flavour, Sara’s current favourite and her standard comfort food. “I don’t suppose you’d know why Zero would want to be paid for her weapons in either copper or silver ore?”

Rip frowned. “Was it one or both?” he asked, because he could think of one obvious use for both of those.

“Could be either,” said Sara, turning back towards him. “Why? What are you thinking?”

“She has a time ship that definitely needs some repairs,” said Rip. “The camouflage circuits weren’t working completely and the AI is malfunctioning. The Helios is very similar in design to the Waverider, so there’s a strong possibility that she needs hepatizon.”

Sara brought her packet of chips to the table and sat down opposite Rip. “What’s that?”

“It’s an alloy of copper, gold and silver, the latter in smaller amounts than the former. It has a purplish black hue to it and is a major component in the Waverider’s electrical systems, as well as forming part of the temporal delineator’s shielding,” said Rip.

“I’ve never heard of it before. Hepatizon?” asked Sara, checking she’d got her pronunciation right.

“It’s from the Greek, “hepar” meaning “liver” because of the colour…” something suddenly clicked into place in his head, something which had probably been bothering him for a while now. He set his tea down on the table. “I am a fool,” he murmured.

“What?” asked Sara.

“I have been very dense,” said Rip. “And possibly my stupidity had cost us a valuable insight. Gideon, what is the Ancient Greek for zero hour?”

“Hora meeden,” said Gideon.

“Who was the last recorded Captain of the Helios?”

“Captain Hera Meaden,” said Gideon.

“Wait,” said Sara. “Are you telling me that Zero Hour is the Captain of the Helios? A former Time Master?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I suppose I could still be wrong. Have you got a picture of Captain Meaden, Gideon?”

“No, Captain. As you’re aware, the Time Masters only kept personnel records at the Vanishing Point, for security reasons,” said Gideon.

“So they did,” said Rip, focusing on sipping his tea again, and trying to cough as quietly as possible. He had known Hera Meaden, liked her even and counted her as a friend to both himself and Miranda. She had also been completely human and that didn’t square very easily with the woman that Sara had described with the glowing blue eyes.

“Rip, who’s Lieutenant Coburn?” asked Sara, gently.

Rip’s head snapped up to meet Sara’s eyes. “Where did you hear that name?”

“Zero. She told me to tell you to “say hello to Lieutenant Coburn”.” Sara was looking at him intensely and he could only imagine the expression on his own face at this moment.

“Miranda. Miranda is Lieutenant Coburn,” said Rip, looking down. “She was training to be a Time Master like me, a Captain, but she gave it all up so that we could stay together. She would have made a far better Time Master than me, but it was her decision.” His lungs were suddenly finding it harder to get enough air. “Miranda and Hera were friends. Hera was one of the few Time Masters who knew about us.”

“She told me to tell you to say hello to your dead wife?” asked Sara, with undisguised horror. “Zero is a bitch. The Time Masters really knew how to pick them.”

“I am… aware…” wheezed Rip, between sucking in much needed air. He’d recently been considering the possibility that the Time Masters had simply picked him to aid in their plan to help Savage to power because they’d known he would fall in love with Miranda. It was a chilling thought that he and Miranda had been doomed from the start.

He took another sip of tea to soothe his sore throat. “But none of this makes… sense. Hera wouldn’t… want to hurt me.” He wanted to continue the thought but it was increasingly difficult to talk without stopping to cough or just get air into his lungs.

Sara was frowning now and giving Rip a concerned look that he didn’t like. “Rip, are you having trouble catching your breath?”

“A little… It’ll pass,” he wheezed. He honestly had no idea if that were true, but he didn’t need Sara worrying about him more.

“Right, that’s it. Gideon, I’m taking the Captain to the medbay,” said Sara.

“Good idea, Ms Lance,” said Gideon. Even his ship seemed to be on Sara’s side.

“Come on,” said Sara, and helped him to his feet without waiting to see if he agreed.

“This… isn’t necessary,” he muttered, hating the way he couldn’t manage to get a full sentence out without a wheeze in between words.

“Maybe let Gideon be the judge of that,” said Sara. “I should have _made_ you go to medbay after we got back from Durno.”

“I really thought I just… needed to sleep,” said Rip, breathing a little better with the change of position. His ever-present, and worsening, cough rather undermined that statement though.

“Don’t talk. Let’s just get you to the medbay,” said Sara.

Rip gave a defeated nod, and let Sara guide him through the corridors to yet another stay in medbay. He had to finally acknowledge that he was feeling worse and was actually quite glad to land on the chair in medbay. Sara put the cuff around his wrist and the blue light of Gideon’s scanning program swept across his body.

“I’m afraid I have some bad news,” said Gideon, after a few moments.

Rip sighed and then broke into a fit of coughing. Gideon was already administering painkillers, but it wasn’t helping with his breathing which was definitely becoming more difficult.

“Why am I not surprised?” said Sara. “Give it to us straight, Gideon.”

“Captain Hunter has pneumonia, and his influenza appears to have mutated into a new strain. His immune system will need to treat this as a new threat. Also, the antiviral which Dr Palmer and Professor Stein are working on will no longer be effective,” said Gideon.

 “Great,” said Rip, collapsing back against the chair following a particularly violent cough. He tried to simply concentrate on breathing.

“Ms Lance, the Captain will need oxygen. If you look in the cupboard to your left then you will find the necessary supplies,” said Gideon.

“Okay,” said Sara, and went to get what was needed. Gideon gave instructions so that she could connect the oxygen supply correctly, whilst Rip did his best not to wheeze too loudly. She slipped the plastic tubing over his ears and then ran the line under his nose so that the two prongs that delivered oxygen fitted into his nostrils.

“Comfortable?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Breathing easier?” this was asked with a little concern in her eyes. He found it incongruous for a moment that a deadly assassin would be worried about him, but Sara had always been a person of two halves.

“A bit,” he agreed. The pure oxygen was helping, but he could feel the congestion settling in his lungs and he suspected this would get worse before it got better.

“Can Gideon fix this?” asked Sara.

Rip shook his head. “No, all she can do is treat the symptoms. We need an antiviral.”

“Gideon, wake Martin and Ray and tell them they’re needed in…”

“No!” interrupted Rip, with a finger extended. “Let them sleep. I’ll be fine until morning. This is still just ‘flu.”

“Are you forgetting how sick you were before?” asked Sara.

“I had a high temperature, that’s all,” said Rip.

“Which nearly boiled your brain, and if Gideon hadn’t used aggressive antipyretics then you could have died,” said Sara.

“Even so, this is my choice,” said Rip. “I’m still the Captain and I’m doing what’s best for my crew. Please allow me at least this much autonomy.”

“Damn it, Rip. You’re a self-sacrificing jerk,” said Sara, anger flashing in her eyes.

“Yes, but right now, I’m a self-sacrificing jerk who isn’t feeling very well and I’d like to try to sleep,” replied Rip, closing his eyes. Who would have believed that just breathing could be such hard work? Gideon’s painkillers were working rather better than the pills he’d taken earlier and having the pleasant side effect of making him somewhat drowsy. He couldn’t stop Sara from disobeying his wishes, but he really hoped she let Martin and Ray sleep. He was going to need them at their best to help him.

“Fine,” said Sara, in a tone that made it clear it was very much not at all fine. “But I’m sleeping right here, and Gideon is going to inform me if your condition worsens. Aren’t you Gideon?”

“Yes, Ms Lance,” said Gideon.

Rip pulled his eyes open long enough to see Sara grab a couple of blankets from the cupboard. One was tossed over him with some annoyance and he gratefully pulled it across his body. The other she took for herself as she settled in the chair beside his. Rip allowed himself a small smile at her stubbornness, and that she cared about him enough to spend the night next to him.

***

Sara gave Rip a couple of hours, so that at least she was following the letter of his order, and then called Martin and Ray. It was very early morning, but it was still technically morning. Neither of them were that surprised to find Rip back in the medbay, and so far, their patient was sleeping through the hastily convened medical conference. Sara was pretty sure that this was an indication of how sick Rip really was.

“It shouldn’t mutate this fast. Viruses takes weeks to mutate into new strains,” said Ray. “That has to be built into it. We’re going to need fresh samples and more data.”

“And we’ll have to work quickly. If this is any indication of what this virus can do, if we wait too long then it’ll mutate again and whatever we create will be useless,” said Martin.

“Assuming Rip’s immune system can fight this new virus off again. Pneumonia isn’t a good sign,” said Ray.

“Couldn’t you just, I don’t know, suck out the fluid?” asked Sara.

Martin was shaking his head even before she’d finished talking. “It can be done, of course, but only if we insert a tube, which would probably be very uncomfortable for our patient. And the bronchia will just refill with fluid again if we can’t tackle the underlying cause.”

“Yeah, and Gideon already has him on oxygenation compounds. I don’t think irritating his lungs further will help at this point. If he worsens though, it’s something we may have to consider…” said Ray, not looking terribly happy at that idea.

“I think our time is better spent trying to find a cure for this virus,” said Martin, turning back to Ray. “Do you think we can salvage any of the work we’ve already done?”

“We’ll have to see what the new mutation looks like,” said Ray. “It’s possible that its mutated too much for any of our previous research to be useful.”

“In so little time?” asked Martin. “I’ve read a lot of the literature over the past few days and never come across anything moving as quickly as this.”

“I know,” said Ray. “But this could be some kind of futuristic virus that’s beyond anything we’ve come across before. We’re up against the clock.”

Ray went to one of the cupboards and found a kit to draw blood with, which Sara wouldn’t have even known was there. It consisted of a cuff that was placed around an arm and then a needle automatically found the vein and took a sample which was deposited in a small vial attached to the outside of the cuff. The vials could be replaced so that several samples could be taken.

They decided to wake Rip before they took blood. He wasn’t sleeping exactly soundly and Sara doubted that being awoken by having a needle stuck in your arm would be much fun. Then there was the small matter of getting his consent before they took blood. His hair was damp with sweat and his breathing was fast and shallow, although so far he was getting sufficient oxygen.

“Rip,” said Sara. “Time to wake up.”

Rip stirred, coughing. His bloodshot eyes opened slowly, and he looked up at his team blearily. “Urgh, medbay,” he croaked, seemingly somewhat surprised to see them. “I’d really hoped that I’d dreamt last night.”

“How are you feeling?” asked Sara.

“I think it’s fair to say that I have felt better,” said Rip, between shallow breaths.

“Sorry to have to wake you, but we need to take some blood,” said Ray, “is that okay?”

Rip nodded. “If you must.”

“It’s not a matter of “must”. This is about the concept of consent, Captain,” said Martin. “It’s quite an important issue when we’re from.”

“Gideon won’t let you do anything that I wouldn’t be happy with,” said Rip, wheezing. Sara could see his ribcage move with the effort of breathing. “She has a list for emergencies… when or if they arise.”

Ray fitted the blood sampling cuff around Rip’s lower arm, and Rip only flinched a little as the needle found a vein and the vial filled. Sara wanted to tease him, like she would have if he’d been fine, but she couldn’t make herself do it.

“Well, I suppose that’s reassuring,” said Ray, as he removed the first full vial and fitted a second. “Maybe we should all have a list. I mean what happens if we’re injured and can’t consent?”

 “Then we assume that you’d prefer not to be dead,” said Sara, because surely that was obvious.

“Gideon can add… your preferences to your medical file if you wish,” said Rip, and then broke into a painful series of coughs.

“Hey, less talking, more sleeping,” said Sara.

“You…woke… _me_ up,” replied Rip, slightly aggrieved, and clearly finding it hard to catch his breath after the coughing.

Ray removed the blood sampling cuff. “Well, we’ve got what we need for now, so you might as well go back to sleep. You need all the rest you can get.”

“Yes, but we… need to get… after Zero again,” Rip managed to get out.

“Might I suggest swapping to the oxygen mask,” said Gideon, with what Sara was beginning to think of as false bravado. Gideon definitely had a tone she used when she was attempting to be up beat in difficult situations, and this suggested that she was concerned about Rip’s condition. “It would supply oxygen more efficiently.”

“Thank you…but… no,” replied Rip, still gasping unhealthily.

Sara was reading the vitals that were displayed on the screen behind Rip’s head and noting that his temperature was up and his blood oxygenation was down. This wasn’t a good sign and if it continued then she wouldn’t be giving him a choice about wearing the oxygen mask. She wasn’t going to tell him that right now though. If he wanted to be a stubborn idiot when it came to his medical care then who was she to stop him.

“I know it’s uncomfortable,” said Martin, who Sara got the impression was speaking from experience. “But as Gideon said, it is better at delivering oxygen.”

Rip turned tired eyes on Martin. “No.”

Martin let out an exasperated sigh. “Very well. Patient consent trumps all.”

Sara exchanged a frustrated look with Ray and Martin. It was clear that they all thought Rip should be following Gideon’s advice.

“We should start analysing this,” said Ray, indicating the blood vials, and Martin nodded.

“Whoever did this, there was serious intent to make it hard to create an antiviral,” said Martin.

The two headed over towards a machine in the corner of the room that Sara hadn’t ever bothered to ask the purpose of. She supposed that it was something for investigating the virus. Perhaps it was something that Gideon had been storing in a cupboard for a situation like this.

“I can’t believe… Hera… would do this,” breathed Rip. “She wouldn’t… know how.”

“Who’s Hera?” asked Ray.

“We think that’s Zero’s real name,” supplied Sara, answering so that Rip didn’t have to talk more. “Hera Meaden. She was the Captain of the Helios. She was a Time Master and knew Rip.”

“When did we work this out?” asked Martin.

“Last night,” said Sara.

“I remembered… my Ancient Greek,” said Rip.

“Your Ancient Greek?” asked Ray.

“Hora meeden is Ancient Greek for Zero Hour,” said Sara, cutting in before Rip had the chance to tax himself with more words. “Hora meeden sounds a lot like Hera Meaden. And all the evidence is pointing to her finding out how to create this virus, Rip.” She gave him a look, that she hoped he would take as “shut up and don’t talk”. Being Rip he didn’t, of course.

“The etymology… of Hera suggests… it was a corruption of “hora” meaning “season” or “hour”. It’s why she chose it,” said Rip, coughing between words.

“Just concentrate on breathing, idiot,” said Sara. “If you so much as utter another word, I’ll _make_ you swap the cannula for the oxygen mask.”

Rip gave her a very annoyed look but did at least do as he was told this time.

“So, we have a rogue Time Master selling weapons across time and space and they’ve decided that they don’t like us very much, especially Rip. Great,” said Ray, as he examined the blood sample.

“We still don’t know that it’s her for sure,” said Sara. “Or why she’d come after Rip like this, or even how she now appears to be a cyborg.”

“Questions that can wait,” said Martin. “Right now, Raymond and I need to tackle this virus, otherwise I fear it may mutate into something more deadly and I think we would all prefer that not to happen.”

Sara heard Rip take in a breath and raise a hand in an accompanying gesture ready to comment, however the look that she gave him was sufficient to stop him there. His hand dropped back on the armrest with annoyance.

“Agreed, Professor,” said Sara. “You and Ray can keep working here. I need to go and update Jax and Mick.” Then she turned to Rip. “And you, no talking unless absolutely necessary. Be good and I’ll bring you something to eat when I’ve finished talking to Jax and Mick. Get some sleep if you can.”

Rip gave her a roll of his eyes but said nothing. He shivered, the chills setting back in because, with a quick look at his vitals on the screen, she could see that his temperature was on the rise again. It wasn’t high enough for antipyretics yet, but if it continued this way then he’d be as bad as before by the afternoon. He wriggled as if trying to get more comfortable in the chair, which although reclined still had him seated to help with his breathing, and then closed his eyes. She took that as a dismissal and headed off to find the others and brief them on the most recent developments.

***

As Sara had predicted, Rip got steadily worse as the day progressed. His temperature rose as the virus took hold of his lungs. Gideon’s scans showed that his alveoli were rapidly filling with fluid, and his cough was pitiful, quickly losing the strength to clear his bronchia. His breathing was shallow, rapid and damp sounding. His chest visibly moved with extra effort due to the liquid it had to carry and shift just to squeeze enough air in and out. He’d acquiesced to the oxygen mask eventually, despite clearly hating it and he’d occasionally tried to remove it in his sleep.

Sara gave up any pretence of needing to be anywhere other than medbay. She got Gideon to transfer all her notes on Calliope Dane and Zero Hour to a tablet, and sat in a chair beside Rip trying to find anything that she’d missed that could tell them something about why this was happening. She didn’t understand why someone would do this to Rip, someone who Rip had counted as a friend. There was a piece that was missing in this puzzle and she was determined to find it, whilst she offered what comfort she could when he was awake. It wasn’t much, but it meant he wasn’t alone in this, and she couldn’t think of much worse than having to endure this alone. Especially since he was clearly aware of his situation and just how serious it was.

He was drowning from the inside, and awareness now came in tortured moments between longer periods of restless unconsciousness. She didn’t tell him to stop talking now, because any words he said were pushed out with huge effort, and who was she to stop him from saying anything that would be of comfort as this point. Gideon was administering a cocktail of oxygenation drugs, anti-inflammatories, painkillers and antipyretics, and Sara suspected that he’d have already been dead without them. Even so, they weren’t far off intubation as the last resort and putting him onto a breathing machine. Gideon had been apologetic, but on her instructions, Martin had readied the equipment should it be required.

Rip was fighting, though. He was fighting to the surface even as Gideon’s drugs made him sleepy and confused. He was fighting the virus with everything he had, but Sara wasn’t sure it was going to be enough.

“Sara?” he asked, voice muffled by the oxygen mask. The air was rasped into his lungs in short gasps.

“Yes, Rip, I’m here,” she said, grabbing hold of his hand.

His glassy, fever-ridden eyes met hers. For the first time, she thought she saw fear in them. There was a blue tinge to his fingers, nose and probably lips if she could have seen them beneath the grey plastic of the mask.

“You have to hang in there,” she said.

He gave her a nod. He was so weak that it was hardly a movement at all. She felt his fingers contract around hers in an attempt at a squeeze. One of Gideon’s alarms sounded and Sara glanced back at the display of his vitals. His blood oxygenation was dropping again, down to dangerous levels. Martin was working with Ray on the antiviral, but stopped what he was doing the moment the alarm sounded. He came over towards Rip’s bed, looking down apologetically at their Captain.

“I’m sorry but we need to intubate.”

Rip gave Martin the same weak nod that he’d just given to Sara.

“We can sedate you for this if you’d prefer,” said Martin.

“No,” croaked Rip. “Prefer… awake.”

Sara wasn’t surprised, although she would have preferred it if he’d slept through this. He’d already been through quite enough with this illness. However, of course Rip was being his usual stubborn self.

Martin just nodded. He collected the intubation kit from the shelf where it had been stowed in preparation, and readied the mouthpiece and tubes that needed to be connected to the machine. Sara stood back, unsure what she should be doing at the moment. Rip’s eyes were worriedly following Martin’s work, even as he struggled to breathe.

“Rip,” said Sara. “Look at me.”

Rip frowned but his eyes moved to Sara’s face, and there was the fear again. She took his hand again. “If you change your mind about the sedation you squeeze my hand three times, okay?”

He gave her a dip of his chin, to show that he’d understood. Martin brought the device over.

“Right, I’ll remove the mask and replace it with the mouthpiece. Gideon tells me that it’ll automatically extend the tube into the trachea. It should be painless but it might feel a little strange. I’ll connect the oxygen as soon as the tube is in place. I’ll be as quick as possible.”

Sara understood what that meant. There would be several seconds where the mask would be off and the new feed unconnected. That meant no oxygen. This was going to be unpleasant.

“Do it,” whispered Rip, his eyes still on Sara.

Martin was mercifully swift. The mask was removed and the tube put in place with only a slight moment of gagging as the tube moved downwards. To his credit, Rip didn’t panic when he tried to breath and couldn’t, and Martin connected the oxygen as quickly as he could. Sara held his gaze throughout, his hand in hers. Rip blinked watery eyes at her and she could see how miserable he was. At least he’d been able to talk before, but now with the tube down his throat even that was gone.

“We can also suction out some of the fluid now,” said Martin. “Gideon will do it automatically, in fact. Hopefully that will also help with your blood oxygen levels and make you feel more comfortable.”

Rip just closed his eyes, and a few tears escaped and slid down his cheek. Martin was too busy looking at Rip’s vitals to notice. She wasn’t surprised by his unusual show of emotion. He was drugged to the gills and had just had a tube shoved down his throat. She’d never seen anyone this sick before who had actually still been conscious.

He blinked at her tiredly and looked away, as if he was embarrassed.

“I know, it’s a bad situation,” said Sara, quietly, using her thumb to brush away the tears, before Martin turned back. “But we’re going to get you through this. You’re going to get better and be back to bossing us all about soon.” His eyes were on her again. “Okay, I’m going to ask you some questions. Squeeze once for yes, twice for no, okay?”

He squeezed her hand once.

“Do you want to change your mind about being sedated?”

Two squeezes. A definite no.

“You’re a stubborn idiot,” said Sara, with no malice in her words.

He gave her hand a single squeeze, and Sara smiled. It hadn’t been a question, but typically he couldn’t leave it alone.

“Any pain?” she asked.

She received two squeezes of her hand.

“Good. Tired?”

One squeeze, barely there. He was definitely worn-out. It didn’t take much at the moment.

“Sleep, okay,” said Sara, “If the tube gets too much, you squeeze three times and Gideon will have you out like a light.”

He squeezed once and his eyes fell shut again. He fell asleep almost immediately. For several long minutes the only sounds in medbay were the heart monitor and whooshing sound of the ventilator, as both Sara and Martin worriedly regarded their Captain.

Ray broke the silence only moments later. “I think I’ve got it. I think I’ve found the anti-viral.”


	6. Before it Kills Me

Sara watched as Martin and Ray rapidly double checked Ray’s work.

“You’re sure that we’re targeting the correct protein?” asked Martin, with a pinched, worried look on his face.

“As sure as I can be,” replied Ray. “I can do more cultures, but that will take time that I don’t think we have. That Rip doesn’t have.”

“I’ve just put the Captain on a ventilator, I’m aware of how little time we have!” said Martin, angrily. The stress was showing.

“Then we have to try this now!” replied Ray, his voice also raised now.

“Guys,” said Sara, with quiet authority. “He’s going to hear you and he doesn’t need that. What’s the issue?”

“The normal way that an antiviral works is to target proteins that the virus requires to replicate,” said Martin. “But some of those proteins are also required for human cell replication.”

“If we pick the wrong protein to attack…” said Ray.

“We could do more harm than good,” finished Martin. “And even if we’re right, there will most likely be side effects.”

“This isn’t my field of expertise. We’re basically going to be testing an experimental antiviral on Rip,” said Ray.

“The ethics are dubious to say the least,” Martin pointed out.

“Martin, he’s dying,” said Sara, in something just above a whisper and with a glance back towards Rip to make sure that he was still asleep. She was voicing something that no one had been brave enough to until now. “He doesn’t have the strength left to fight this for much longer.”

Martin and Ray exchanged a look.

“I’ll give Gideon the details of the compound she needs to fabricate. It shouldn’t take long,” said Martin, with a resigned slump of his shoulders.

“I’ll calculate the dosage,” said Ray. “We’ll probably need to dose him with it over a period of days.”

Ten minutes later Ray stood with an injector in his hand, and he pressed it to Rip’s arm. The patient didn’t even stir in his sleep, he was so deeply unconscious. There was a tense period of waiting. No one was sure how long it would take to confirm that the antiviral was working.

Gideon finally spoke. “I’m pleased to say that the Captain’s viral load appears to be lessening. The antiviral seems to have been successfully implemented and his condition should improve now.”

Sighs of relief were breathed all around.

“Thank you, Gideon,” said Martin.

“However, I have some additional information about the virus that is less good news.”

“What’s the problem?” asked Sara.

“The virus is not a single virus, but two. They are conjoined and working in concert. The antiviral has only dealt with part of the problem. Improvement in the Captain’s condition may only be temporary.”

***

Rip awoke to someone fighting with him. At first, he thought that it was part of the dream where he’d been drowning in a lake, trying to remove something from his throat, and now water weed was wrapping itself around him, but as he became more aware he realised that there were hands on him. His primary instinct was to lash out, because someone was attacking him, holding him down.

“Rip, no, stop!” said an urgent voice, female and one he recognised. Suddenly he wasn’t sure what was going on. Fighting didn’t seem to be the right response anymore. He opened his eyes and blinked. There were people holding down both his arms, although he wasn’t putting much effort into fighting them now.

He looked from one person to the other, the fog finally lifting from his mind. Jax was on one side and Sara on the other. They both looked like they hadn’t slept in a while. He tried to talk and found he couldn’t. Then he remembered the tube in his throat, the thing that was currently helping him to breath as he drowned from the fluid filling his lungs. He allowed himself to go limp, and hopefully they’d understand they didn’t need to hold him down any longer.

Jax breathed a sigh of relief as he released his grip and looked at Sara, who took Rip’s hand.

“Do you remember how this works?”

Yes, he did, and he squeezed her hand to prove it. Even that was an effort.

“Sorry for the show of force, but you were trying to pull your breathing tube out and you’re not quite ready to come off it yet. Give it a little more time and Martin will remove it.”

He wanted to know when that would be, but there was no number of squeezes for “when?”. He settled for raising his eyebrows.

“The drugs have been messing with your head,” said Sara. “You’ve been in and out of consciousness for a couple of days, but the good news is that Ray found an antiviral and it seems to be working.”

He wanted to tell Sara to say thank you to Ray, but he supposed that would have to wait. He was so tired that he was certain that he’d fall asleep again soon.

“Are you in any pain?” she asked.

He took stock for a moment. He didn’t really feel anything other than the slight irritation of a tube down his throat. Mainly he felt disconnected, as if everything around him was happening far away and not really to him. Gideon clearly had him on some strong painkillers and probably a few other things. He squeezed Sara’s hand twice.

“Good,” she said. He remembered a number of exchanges like this in his waking moments. The answer hadn’t always been “no”. He expected her to ask him to go back to sleep, but she didn’t.

“Dude, it’s good to see you awake,” said Jax.

He freed his hand from Sara’s and made his muscles obey. It took effort, more effort than he would have believed necessary for a simple gesture. He mimed writing.

“You want something to write on?” asked Jax. Rip put his hand back in Sara’s and squeezed once. He saw Sara give Jax a nod.

“Okay, give me a minute,” said Jax.

Jax disappeared from his side for a moment and came back a few minutes later with a pad and a pen. He put the pen in Rip’s fingers, and he gripped it as best he could, while Jax held the pad.

 _“You need sleep_ ,” he wrote. His writing was lopsided and difficult to read, but it was at least legible.

“We need sleep?” asked Sara, with incredulity and a light laugh. “We’re not the ones who’re recovering from pneumonia.”

 _“You look tired. I’m fine,”_ he scribbled.

“I know you’re improving but you’re definitely not fine,” said Jax, “but maybe Sara could do with some sleep.”

“Yeah, I’ll sleep when the tube comes out,” replied Sara.

Rip gave her what he hoped was a disappointed look.

“Okay, I am tired,” said Sara, “but someone keeps trying to pull their breathing tube out while they’re sleeping.” Rip got the message that he’d been a somewhat difficult patient.

“ _Sorry,_ ” he wrote.

“Don’t be. You’ve still got a fever and Gideon has you on about six different drugs. I imagine your dreams are interesting right now,” said Sara. “And the tube can’t be much fun.”

“ _Isn’t,_ ” he wrote. It was getting harder to hold the pen and his writing was worsening. He had one last question. “ _Aberration??”_

“Nothing yet,” replied Sara. “But I’m keeping an eye on all three periods that I identified.”

“ _Pick furthest_ ,” he managed to scrawl.

“Furthest away from where we are now? Why?” asked Jax, with a frown.

“ _Worst jump._ ”

“You think she’s doing this to hurt you, and she knows that time jumps are worse when it’s a long way, especially if you’re already sick,” said Sara, with understanding.

He couldn’t hold the pen any longer and it dropped from his fingers, clattering on the floor. He reached out his fingers towards Sara and she took his hand again. He squeezed once.

“Okay, we understand. We’ll look into it,” said Sara. “But we’re not going anywhere until you’re completely well this time.”

He frowned and squeezed her hand twice, as hard as he could manage. It still wasn’t very hard. They had to understand that if an aberration occurred then they needed to move after it quickly, even if it meant that his condition was worsened. Sara exchanged a look with Jax.

“Maybe wait until you’re feeling better before we talk about this,” said Jax.

Again, he squeezed Sara’s hand twice.

“I understand the message,” said Sara. “We’re just not doing it your way this time.”

He would have tried to argue, but he didn’t have the strength, or ability, at the moment. Even picking up the pen again was beyond him. He managed an exasperated roll of his eyes, but that was it.

“You’re exhausted,” said Sara. “Go back to sleep. We’ve got this. Hopefully by the time you wake up your O2 stats will be up enough that you can go back to breathing on your own.”

He gave her a single long squeeze of her hand. He hated this tube with all his being right now, even if it was keeping him alive.

“Yeah, I bet you’re looking forwards to it,” she said.

He squeezed again, but he was already too tired to hear her response. His eyes closed of their own accord and he slept.

***

It took a while for Rip’s blood oxygen levels to stabilise enough for the tube to come out, and when it did, he still spent most of his time sleeping. Talking continued to be difficult for the following day, because now his throat was sore from being intubated for days. It was something that he’d never experienced before and hoped he never needed to experience again. His cough was also impressive and didn’t make his throat hurt any less.

Under other circumstances Gideon would have stimulated cell regeneration and his sore throat would have been gone in a matter of minutes. But cell regeneration drew upon the body’s reserves of energy and in this situation Rip had no energy to spare. His body needed all of his resources to fight off the virus and its effects. Forcing his body to heal him more quickly would place additional strain on his organs and probably result in his rapid death. He was just going to have to deal with this the old-fashioned way.

Sara had finally gone to her own bed to sleep, and Jax too, but someone was always in medbay. Once he’d even awoken to Mick, sat drinking a beer and reclining in the other medical chair. The man had gruffly asked him if he needed anything and when he’d said “no” had gone back to his drinking.

It was four days, from when Sara had brought him into medbay, before he was able to stay awake long enough to actually pay real attention to what was going on around him, and five days before he felt up to arguing with Gideon about returning to his quarters. Gideon also refused to give him any information about any aberrations and all his attempts to get his crew to talk had been met with concerted deflection of his questions. For once they were presenting a united front, which was extremely frustrating. On the sixth day he was actually able to leave medbay but Jax helped him walk down the corridor to his room, and Ray and Sara were waiting for him there.

“I’m sure a welcoming committee wasn’t necessary,” he said, tiredly.

“We need to talk,” said Sara, which was ominous enough, but Ray looked somewhat guilty which was never good.

“But you’re getting into bed first,” said Jax. This had been the agreement: he got to go back to his quarters, but he had to go straight to bed and stay there for the rest of the day. He had been banned from making excursions to the kitchen to brew tea and wasn’t allowed onto the bridge or in the library until Gideon gave him the all clear.

He sighed. “Very well.”

He turned towards his bed to find that it had been readied with extra pillows and blankets, and had a table beside it with water, painkillers, and his current reading material. It looked really quite inviting. He felt somewhat touched that his crew had done this for him.

It took him a moment to get himself situated and propped up on the pillows with a little help from Jax. He tried his best to ignore the way his body protested at any movement and he had to stop to cough before any conversation could begin.

“Perhaps the two of you should get on with telling me why you look like you’re about to attend a funeral,” said Rip, as he settled back into his pillows, and directed his attention to Ray and Sara.

Ray looked like he’d winced at that comment. Rip frowned.

“So, you know that Professor Stein and I created an antiviral to deal with the virus that was making you sick,” said Ray.

“Yes, and I really am very grateful,” said Rip. “I’d probably be dead if it weren’t for your efforts, and instead here I am. Once again on the mend.”

It was Sara’s turn to look awkward. His frown deepened.

“What aren’t you telling me?” asked Rip. This behaviour was somewhat worrying.

“The antiviral, it only partly worked,” said Ray. “The virus mutates more quickly than anything we’ve ever seen before, and we didn’t know this until a few days ago, but it has two components. It’s a virus within a virus. There’s an internal, er, engine, if you like, that drives the mutation and an external, er, shell that causes all the damage. Our antiviral stripped the virus engine of the outer shell, destroying a lot of the individual virions in the process, which cured your pneumonia and made you feel better. But it didn’t tackle the inner, er, engine. It’s already mutating a new outer shell to attack your body again.”

Rip felt like someone had just poured a bucket of ice water over him. For a moment he just stared at Ray, then he looked down at his hands.

“So, I’m not really getting better…” said Rip, quietly. “Am I?” his head snapped up to fix Ray in his gaze.

Ray shook his head. “I’m sorry. You’ll feel better for a while and then the virus will reach critical levels again and you’ll be as sick as you were before. In fact, every time the virus mounts a new attack it will be worse because your immune system is getting progressively weaker.” His tone was apologetic, sad almost.

“And another antiviral isn’t going to help?” asked Rip.

“We can keep blowing away the outer shells, but the inner virus engine is protected by them and we haven’t found a way to reach it yet,” said Ray. “We’re working on it, but this is so far beyond anything we’ve encountered, I can’t say whether we’ll do it before…” Ray trailed off.

“Before it kills me,” said Rip, bluntly and with an unamused huff.

“We’re not going to let that happen,” said Sara.

“It doesn’t sound like we have much choice in the matter,” said Rip. “Of all the ways that I thought I might shuffle off this mortal coil, I didn’t expect to be taken down by a virus. Time Pirates always seemed reasonably likely, or some other violent end at the hands of history, but expiring due to the ‘flu seems somewhat anticlimactic for a former Time Master.” It was hard to keep the disappointment out of his tone. He’d never expected to survive into old age but he’d hoped at least for a death that might mean something. This wasn’t going to be that.

“Dude, that’s not happening,” said Jax, reiterating Sara’s words.

“Then what do you propose we do?” asked Rip, tersely.

“We go after Zero,” said Sara. “She’s got to have a cure.”

“Capital idea, Ms Lance. If only we could find her,” said Rip, finishing his sentence with a series of hacking coughs. He brought his handkerchief to his mouth.

“And there’s the possibility that a time jump might kill Rip more quickly than the virus,” said Ray, trailing off at the end of his sentence, as if he very much regretted being the person to point that out.

“I’m aware,” said Rip. “But I survived the time jump to here. There has to be a point when I’m well enough to jump before I begin to get more ill again.”

“You’ll still be as sick as a dog, again,” said Sara.

“I’m getting rather used to it,” said Rip. He hadn’t been truly well for almost two weeks now.

“But you’re more ill this time,” said Ray. “The pneumonia really took it out of you, and you needed more recovery time than before. I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Jax was shaking his head too. He obviously didn’t think it was a good idea either.

“I would rather spend my final days chasing down a dangerous temporal arms dealer than lying around here waiting to die,” said Rip, “even if it means additional discomfort on my part.”

“It’s not discomfort we’re worried about,” said Jax. “This could kill you, Rip.”

“Better that than going through a third stint in medbay while I drown from the inside,” said Rip, folding his arms over his chest. He meant it. He ignored the shocked faces of his team and continued. “And I stand by my suggestion that Zero will be in the period furthest from this one, out of the three that Sara identified. Where would that take us?”

“You’re not going to like it,” said Sara.

“That was guaranteed,” said Rip, with resignation.

“Kasnia 2140,” said Sara.

Rip let out a miserable sigh. “When Tor Degaton was ruler.”

Sara nodded. “We’re guessing, but the weapons that we saw here could definitely come from then. She has to be getting her supplies from somewhere.”

“That’s one hell of a jump,” said Jax. “Even the rest of us are going to feel it, and we don’t know that she’s there for sure.”

Ray’s face said it all. His features were solemn. “If the jump doesn’t kill you, then it’ll speed up the virus’ progress. If we stay here then you’ve probably got several days before the virus regroups, and it would give Martin and I more of a chance to find something to attack the viral engine.”

“Okay, that sounds like a better idea,” said Jax.

“Gideon,” said Rip, slowly and deliberately. He didn’t want to ask his next question, but they needed an answer to it to inform what they did next. “Extrapolating from previous medical data, will I be well enough to jump after fighting off another virus mutation?”

“I do not believe so, Captain. The odds of you surviving a jump are already unacceptably small,” said Gideon.

“So, either we risk the jump now, or we don’t jump at all,” said Sara.

“Waiting twenty-four hours would give the Captain the best chance of survival,” said Gideon. “Also, I would recommend that he rides out the jump in medbay under sedation.”

“No,” said Rip. “I’ll jump sat on the bridge with everyone else.”

“That really doesn’t sound like the best idea. Especially after what happened last time,” said Ray.

“The last jump of a Time Master should be on his ship’s bridge, don’t you think?” said Rip, stubbornly.

“Well, when you put it like that…” said Ray.

“Are we going to talk about why Zero Hour wants to kill Rip?” asked Jax.

“Do we have to?” asked Rip, already resigned to some difficult questions. That didn’t stop him from running a hand across his eyes in an expression of dismay.

“Yes,” said Sara. “Who’s Hera Meaden?”

“I already told you. She was a Time Master. She went through the Time Master academy at the same time as myself and Miranda. She and Miranda were friends. They grew up in the same Refuge,” said Rip. He gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. None of these details would help explain why Hera would want to kill him.

“There are other refuges?” asked Jax.

“Of course. The Time Masters drew their members from across time, they needed several places for the children to grow up,” said Rip. “Not all of them were so… well run… as the one I grew up in. Although I understand that Miranda and Hera had a happy childhood. This is somewhat beside the point.”

“You said that she knew about you and Miranda,” said Sara.

“We were careful, but Hera knew us too well, and confronted us,” said Rip. That was the easy bit, but his voice caught in his throat as he remembered his beautiful Miranda, however he continued the story. “Unfortunately, she wasn’t the only one who realised that something was going on. Miranda and I were caught. One of us had to resign our commission, leave the Time Masters, and Miranda resigned her commission before I had a chance to resign mine. After that, Hera and I remained friends but it wasn’t the same, we both missed Miranda and I think she always blamed me for her resignation. Maybe she thought I should have been the one to go, and I can’t say I disagreed with her. After we graduated and got our time ships, we rather lost touch. I haven’t heard from her in many subjective years.” Rip shook off the memories and the feelings that went with them. He realised that he was tired of all this, and he wished he didn’t have to rake up all these old, buried, memories.

“So, you’re saying that Hera Meaden was a stand-up Time Captain?” asked Jax. “Nothing to suggest that she’d go off the rails?”

“We don’t really know what happened to the Time Masters after we destroyed the Oculus,” said Rip. “All sorts of calamities could have befallen her between then and now, especially given that I _know_ she wasn’t one of the Captains at the Vanishing Point when we were captured.”

“Or maybe she’s just angry with us for destroying the Oculus,” pointed out Sara.

“I did leave a message at the Vanishing Point for any returning Time Captains, but, as you say, that doesn’t mean that they would have agreed with our decision to destroy the Oculus,” said Rip

“Wait, you left a message?” asked Sara.

“It seemed only polite,” said Rip.

“What did it say?” asked Ray.

“Gideon, play the message I left for the Time Captains at the Vanishing point,” said Rip.

A holographic image of Rip appeared, looking out at the assembled group. He was dressed in his usual outfit with his coat flying out around his ankles as he moved nervously, hands in his pockets.

“My fellow Time Captains… although I hesitate to call you that given what I’m about to say.” He looked down at his feet, and then back up. “If you have downloaded this message then you will realise that the Time Masters have come to an end. I discovered that they were using a device called the Oculus to manipulate time and bring the tyrant Vandal Savage to power, putting in danger the very time line we swore to protect. It is most likely that all of us were manipulated to maintain their power, and our mission to protect time was always corrupted by them. To break their hold over all of us, my team and I were forced to destroy the Oculus, which resulted in the destruction that you see before you. My intention is to continue to fulfil my mission, uphold my oath, and protect time. I hope that at least some of you will also want to do the same, but you are no longer under any obligation to do so. Good luck.”

The message finished there and the hologram disappeared again.

“Are you a total idiot?” asked Sara. “Anyone who downloads that message is going to know that you were responsible for taking down the Time Masters. I doubt they’re going to be happy about it.” She looked very unimpressed.

“I coded it so that only Time Captains can read it, and I’d hope that they’d acknowledge that our oath was to protect the timeline first and foremost, which clearly the Time Masters weren’t doing,” said Rip.

“But you always knew that there were other Time Captains out there?” asked Jax.

“Of course. I doubt many of the time ships were destroyed. They were built to withstand considerable impacts,” said Rip. “And then other Time Captains would have been out on missions. I’m amazed it’s taken us this long to meet one. They can’t all have decided to retire,” said Rip. “Besides, it’s the remains of the Time Council that I expected to give us trouble and I’ve had no luck tracking them down at all. They will still have control over the Hunters most likely, given their conditioning.”

“Don’t you think you should have told us all this?” asked Sara.

“It never seemed relevant,” said Rip.

“Well, it’s pretty damn relevant now, wouldn’t you say?” spat Sara.

“It does look that way,” replied Rip, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. “But the woman that you described to me, a woman who doesn’t care about the timeline or how many people she hurts, that isn’t the Hera that I knew. We’re still missing a part of this puzzle and I don’t know what it is. My death may be unavoidable, but I don’t intend to go down without a fight or without getting to the bottom of whatever is going on here.” He met the eyes of his three crewmembers one by one. “Zero Hour may have been clever, but she has no idea what she has done by attacking me. I will take her down, even if it is very possibly the last thing that I do.”

The declaration would have sounded better if he hadn’t ended it by coughing for several seconds, but at least his team seemed to get the idea. Jax was nodding, and Ray gave a small incline of his head. Sara was just giving him a look, slightly amused but definitely supportive.

“ _We’ll_ take her down,” said Sara. “We’ll get you the cure and no one is going to die. Now, you need to sleep if you want to be able to time jump tomorrow.”

Rip rolled his eyes. “Go on then. Give me some peace and I _might_ manage to shut my eyes for a few hours.”

His team filed out, and Rip repositioned his pillows, so that he could recline a bit more. He still didn’t like to lie flat. His breathing wasn’t quite back to normal, and being slightly upright helped. The memory of being intubated was extremely unpleasant and still fresh in his mind. He stared up at the ceiling and considered his situation.

“Gideon, following the time jump, how long will I have before the virus reaches critical mass again?”

“Given your already weakened state, it is very likely that you will start to deteriorate a few hours after the time jump.”

Rip pinched the bridge of his nose. He wouldn’t let his team see that he was afraid, but he was, and he wasn’t sure how long he could keep up this front of bravado. He was fed-up with being ill, and weak, and needing to rely on others. As a Time Master he’d been used to fixing his own problems, alone, and having to include others in his calculations had been a difficult adjustment to make. He still hadn’t fully become comfortable with having a team, although he was trying to work on that.

This enforced inaction was grating upon him, but he was so tired every minute of the day that even just moving from medbay to his quarters had been enough to make him want to sleep for a week. He let out a long breath. Still, he wasn’t going to stop fighting, that just wasn’t in his nature, not while there was still hope. If Zero thought that this would break him then she didn’t know him very well.


	7. Get Zero

“We found an aberration,” said Martin, as Sara walked into the Library. “I confess to being somewhat suspicious.”

“Oh yes, this is most definitely a trap,” said Sara, with a nod of her head. “Let me guess, Kasnia 2140?”

“Very insightful, Miss Lance,” said Martin. “I’d have suggested some kind of clairvoyance if I didn’t know better. I assume that we’re still going there regardless.”

“Of course,” said Sara. “We need to catch up with Zero, and that’s where she’s going to be. We’ll just have to be careful.”

“How’s our Captain?”

“His usual stubborn self,” said Sara. “Pretending he’s fine and not worried. He’s decided that we’re going to jump tomorrow.”

“Is he going to be well enough for that?” asked Martin, with concern.

“Probably not, but he’s determined,” said Sara. “Gideon seems to think that he has a reasonable chance of surviving it, but he might wish that he hadn’t for a bit.”

“How did he take the news…?” Martin tailed off, gesturing rather than saying something that he didn’t want to say.

“That he’s dying? It could have gone worse. He wants to get Zero,” said Sara, her eyes on the main screen.

“Don’t we all?” replied Martin, ruefully.

“There’s still the hope that she has the cure. What’s the aberration?” asked Sara.

“Tor Degaton’s troops lost an encounter with a rival faction that they should have won. It looks like it was because they didn’t have the required weapons,” said Martin.

“We’re thinking that Zero took the weapons to sell, then,” said Sara, thoughtfully. “Does this mean that she hasn’t met us at Durno yet or is she collecting more weapons for another run?”

“I’d say the latter. If we’re assuming that what Captain Hunter told you was right, and she wants us to hurt him by jumping, then we have to also assume that she’s creating aberrations in the correct order for us to follow,” Martin replied. “It would put her at a disadvantage if she was doing this any other way.”

“But you agree that she’s doing this to torture Rip?”

“Maybe not solely, but it was certainly a secondary intention. She infected him with a virus that doesn’t kill immediately, given Gideon’s rather amazing abilities to heal and the impressive immune system that Captain Hunter possesses, but does incapacitate and cause considerable pain. If she’s a Time Master, she knew Gideon wouldn’t be able to cure the virus, but would keep him alive so that he could experience further symptoms and pain. That sounds very much like torture to me, and make no mistake, this is definitely distressing for our Captain, despite the reassurances that he’s given us otherwise. Gideon can take away the majority of his physical pain, but this illness is hurting him in other ways as well.” Martin shook his head and sat down on the edge of the desk. Sara thought that he looked very tired.

“You saw how he reacted to the ventilator,” said Sara, with some understanding.

“I’m not as unobservant as you think,” replied Martin. “After that incident, I went through his list of emergency instructions to Gideon to ensure that we weren’t going against his wishes in any way. He has made his preferences very clear when it comes to medical interventions, and I believe I now may have some kind of understanding of how Zero became who she is.”

“Really? Rip’s medical preferences gave you that?” she asked, a little intrigued.

Martin nodded. “Captain Hunter specifically mentions that he does not wish any mechanical additions to be made to his body. Which suggests to me that this is something that an AI might do - if not specifically told not to - to heal an otherwise untreatable injury.”

“You’re telling me that Gideon has the ability to replace our parts with machinery if she can’t heal us?” asked Sara, with some horror.

“Gideon has apparently been instructed to always seek our consent for such a procedure, but I wonder if Godiva, the AI on the Helios, was given the same instruction,” said Martin. “Imagine what might have happened if her Captain had been grievously injured and the only thing that Godiva could do to save her was to turn her into a cyborg.”

“Then she’d do it. Right, Gideon?”

“Indeed, Ms Lance. The primary purpose of all ship’s AIs is to protect our Captain. It’s why Captain Hunter was so insistent to make his wishes clear as to how far I should go. There are many avenues open to me when it comes to medical care and I understand that not all of them are what might be preferred by the patient. However, I can only do what I am programmed to. I will seek consent whenever possible, but if the patient is unconscious then I must provide whatever lifesaving care I have available to me, unless I have been instructed previously what the patient wishes to be done in such circumstances.”

“Time Captains work alone,” said Sara, with understanding. “There was no one to tell Godiva not to do it. Somehow, Hera was injured and the only way to save her was to do that to her.” She frowned. “We have to tell Rip.”

Martin shook his head. “I think we’re better leaving him to sleep. He needs the rest and I doubt anymore stress will help him to be well enough to jump tomorrow.”

“You have a point. He doesn’t need to know right now.” She gave Martin an assessing look. “When did you last get some sleep?” she asked.

Martin waved a hand at her. “I need to get back to Raymond and our search for the next antiviral.”

Sara shook her head. “You’re no good to anyone if you’re too exhausted to think. Go get a few hours’ sleep.”

“As long as you do the same,” replied Martin.

Sara let out a long sigh. “Fine. I’ll go and sleep too. It basically seems to be my job at the moment to remind people to sleep. Gideon, please tell me that Rip is actually in bed…”

“He is, Ms Lance, and fast asleep currently. Jax is scheduled to check in on him in two hours’ time,” replied Gideon, with just a touch of smugness at anticipating her next question.

“Thank god for that,” she murmured. She’d seriously considered locking Rip in his room and she was fairly certain that Gideon would have happily helped her. Sara headed out of the library. “Night, Martin.”

Tomorrow was going to be a difficult day and everyone was going to need to be well rested to deal with it.

***

The jump was every bit as bad as Sara had thought it would be.

Rip walked onto the bridge on his own, without help, but slowly and with Ray beside him to catch him if he fell. He was pale with red-rimmed eyes, but had made the effort to get dressed and looked a lot like his usual self if you ignored his skin tone and the tremors that frequently ran through his body.

“Are you absolutely sure about this?” asked Sara, for what seemed like the hundredth time.

“Yes,” said Rip. “We need to find Zero and stop her. There’s no use in procrastinating. Let’s get this over with so that you can all get on with the mission while I spend the next twenty-four hours in Gideon’s care in medbay.” The last was said tersely, but with resignation and not a little disappointment. Sara hoped that it was _only_ going to be twenty-four hours, but had suspicions that it might be longer.

Sara gave a final sigh at the stubbornness of her Captain. “You should already be in the medbay,” said Sara. “It’s sheer pig-headedness that you’re sat here with us.”

“As I said before, if this is going to be my last time jump, then I want to do it on the bridge,” said Rip. “It’s only fitting, and there’s no point trying to persuade me otherwise. I’ve made up my mind.”

“You’re lucky she hasn’t just sedated you,” said Mick, as he took his seat on the other side of the room. “If I was in charge, I’d have punched you out and left you in the medbay.”

“Which, I think, demonstrates why I left Sara in charge during my illness, and not you, Mr Rory,” said Rip, with a pointed finger in Mick’s direction.

“Yeah, well, I’m beginning to think that Mick was on to something,” said Sara. “This is going to be pretty miserable and you’d be much safer doing this in the medbay.”

Rip gave Sara a defiant look. “We’ve discussed this and I’ve given you my answer, now perhaps we can get started.”

Ray did the honours with the blanket, wrapping it around Rip, which did still his shivering a little, while Jax handed him the bucket, ready for the inevitable throwing up. Finally, everyone strapped in and was ready to go. Sara turned back to the navigation controls and lifted the ship up and into the timestream. She heard an audible gasp of pain from behind her, but couldn’t turn around to deal with it whilst they were in flight.

“Rip?” asked Ray, who sat on one side of their Captain.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw Rip wave off Ray’s concern. The suggestion that he was in any way okay was clearly disputed by the fact that his face was drawn with pain and his eyes tightly screwed shut. His breathing was rapid and his hands were gripping the bucket as if it was a lifesaver to a drowning man.

There was a considerable part of the timestream to traverse and she needed to concentrate on navigating. So, she turned back and ignored what was going on behind her, despite her worries, while she got on with the task at hand. She knew that leaving the timestream would be the worst part, it usually made her feel at least slightly queasy on a long jump, but she wasn’t already ill.

“Okay, we’re going to exit now. Just hang in there,” said Sara, over her shoulder. She steered them out and into 2140.

There was a somewhat suppressed groan from behind her, and then the sound of Rip throwing up everything that had been in his stomach. She set the ship down as rapidly as she could at the predetermined coordinates, and pushed up her restraining bar, already moving towards Rip’s seat. He was shivering violently and looked as pale as a ghost, eyes still shut and breathing rapid.

He opened his eyes and blinked, staring off into the distance. Jax put a comforting hand on his shoulder and he flinched, or perhaps it was more that he was startled, and Jax removed his hand, looking bewildered.

“Rip?” she asked. He didn’t even look in her direction. “Rip, can you hear me?”

There was no response. Ray waved a hand in front of Rip’s eyes and he didn’t even blink.

“I don’t think he can see or hear us,” said Ray, worriedly.

At least he seemed to have stopped being sick. Sara took one of his hands, unpeeling it from its grip on the bucket. He flinched again, but she held on. She could see in his eyes that he was worried and he needed contact, because he didn’t have any other stimuli to help him make sense of what was going on. She thought quickly and turned his palm over, then traced out the two letters “OK” with her finger, hoping that he’d understand.

He looked down in the direction of her hand, but not directly at it, confirming Ray’s theory.

“C…c…can’t see or hear,” he stuttered, quietly.

“Yeah, we got that,” murmured Sara. She squeezed his hand, hoping he understood once for “yes”.

“C…c…cold,” he managed, leaning his head back against the headrest. “H…head…hurts.”

She looked up at Ray, he was frowning. Headaches weren’t one of the standard symptoms of time travel. Jax was removing the bucket, so that they could get him out of the chair.

“We should get him to medbay,” said Martin.

“Agreed,” said Sara. “Just let me tell him.” She turned his shaking hand again and traced out “M E D B A Y” and then did it again.

Rip groaned, but nodded.

“Mick? Can you do the honours again?”

Then suddenly Rip’s eyes rolled backwards in his head, he went limp for a second and then his back arched, limbs jerking. He wrenched his hand violently out of Sara’s grip.

“He’s having a seizure,” shouted Martin. “Get him on the ground, somewhere he can’t hit anything and hurt himself.”

Ray and Jax were closest and managed to manhandle the flailing form of their Captain to the ground between them.

“What do we do?” asked Sara, helplessly.

Martin had pulled the blanket off Rip and was now busily folding it to place under his head so that it wouldn’t hit the floor as he seized. “There’s nothing we _can_ do. We have to wait for it to pass, unless it doesn’t after a few minutes and then we need to get him to medbay. But carrying him right now is going to be next to impossible.”

Rip’s limbs were twitching in an alarming manner as his muscles contracted and released seemingly at random. Then it all stopped and Rip lay completely still. The Legends stood around him looking shocked and concerned, and for a moment no one moved.

Then Martin shook himself out of it and knelt beside Rip. He felt for a pulse. “He’s not breathing.”

“Medbay, now!” said Sara.

Mick scooped Rip up from the floor, threw him over his shoulder, and ran from the room. Sara followed, with the others lagging several steps behind.

“Gideon!” Sara shouted.

“I am preparing the medbay,” said Gideon.

Sara skidded into the medbay to see Mick dropping Rip rather unceremoniously on the medbay couch closest to the door.

“Fix him!” snarled the pyromaniac, which Sara assumed was aimed at Gideon.

“Of course, Mr Rory,” replied the AI. “Please attach the cuff, and then the oxygen mask will be required.”

Mick did both things that Gideon had requested as the blue lights ran over Rip’s body.

“Administering adrenalin and positive pressure oxygen,” said Gideon.

Rip gasped, his eyes flying open. He sucked in air like a man who had been suffocating, looking around him with wild eyes that still didn’t seem to actually be able to see anything from the way they looked past Mick. He clutched at the armrests. Sara let out a breath that she’d been unconsciously holding in.

“The Captain is suffering from hearing loss and blindness. Both of these should pass and I am administering drugs to help with the other symptoms,” said Gideon.

Sara once more found herself going to Rip’s side and taking his hand in hers. “H I” she traced out.

“Who…?” mumbled Rip through the oxygen mask, looking somewhere in her direction but not exactly at her. He had begun to shiver again.

“S A R A,” she tried. Tracing the letters twice to give him a chance to work out what she was trying to say. Rip visibly relaxed, and muttered her name in understanding.

“What are you doing?” asked Mick.

“Hand spelling,” said Sara. “He can’t see or hear us. This is about the only way I can think to communicate at the moment.”

Ray and Jax tumbled through the medbay doorway, with Martin a moment behind them.

“Is he okay?” asked Jax. “Did Gideon get him back?”

“Yes. He’s going to be fine,” said Sara, at least as much for her own benefit as the rest of the crew. “But he still can’t see or hear.”

The team exchanged unhappy looks. Ray went to the cupboard and took out a blanket that he gently tucked around Rip, despite the initial startled reaction. There was a murmured “thank you” from the patient.

“I can’t imagine how scary that must be,” said Jax.

“Multiple neurological complications are usually a rare side effect of time travel; however, the Captain was quite weak when we jumped. If he wasn’t such an experienced time traveller then he would probably have died,” said Gideon.

“He almost did,” said Ray.

Rip was staring up at the ceiling with unseeing eyes, but was nervously fiddling with the edge of the blanket. Sara suspected that he needed the contact. He pulled down the oxygen mask with the hand that wasn’t held in Sara’s.

“Medbay?” he asked, resignedly.

Sara squeezed his hand. Rip gave a small nod.

“How long is this going to last?” His voice was quiet and hardly sounded like Rip at all.

“Gideon?” asked Sara.

“Unknown,” said Gideon. “Probably between a few minutes and several hours.”

“Okay, how do I communicate that?” asked Sara.

“Just tell him a few hours,” suggested Ray. “Then he’ll be pleasantly surprised if it wears off before then.”

Sara traced out “F E W H O U R S” on Rip’s hand.

“Hmm, of course,” Rip murmured. “Too ill to jump really.”

“How many drugs have you got him on, Gideon?” asked Sara, with a little amusement. She doubted that Rip would have admitted that he was too ill to jump otherwise.

“He is in considerable pain, Ms Lance. I have provided him with appropriate levels of medication,” said Gideon, somewhat indignantly. “I am also readjusting his electrolytes back to normal levels.”

“I get the impression that Gideon is trying to tell us that Captain Hunter is quite unwell,” said Martin.

“Indeed, Professor Stein,” said Gideon.

“We were there when he decided to stop breathing,” pointed out Mick.

“Sara, you have a mission,” said Rip, quietly. “Whilst I appreciate the hand holding, it’s not necessary.”

“Yeah, none of us believe that, Rip,” replied Sara, knowing he couldn’t hear her, “but if it makes you feel better to say it, I understand.” Instead, she wrote on his hand “O K”.

“Good,” said Rip. “Go. I’ll be fine. Gideon will look after me.”

He looked through Sara. She gave a long sigh, and squeezed his hand. How Gideon was going to look after him when he couldn’t hear anything that she said was a mystery to her. She wrote out “B A C K S O O N”

“Bring Zero back with you,” replied Rip, earnestly.

“O K” Sara traced out. She turned to the group, still holding Rip’s hand.

“Martin, Ray, we need you here working on the antiviral for the next mutation of the virus,” said Sara. “Mick, Jax and I will go and recon, see if we can find out where Zero is hiding. We’ll check in every couple of hours. Everyone okay with that?”

She received a series of nods. Then she turned her eyes upwards. “Gideon, sedate him, please,” said Sara.

“Is that necessary?” asked Martin.

“Do you really want to leave him here on his own, in the dark and silence, while you work?” asked Sara. “He’s better sleeping through this.”

“Administering sedative,” said Gideon.

Rip frowned, apparently feeling the effects of the sedative, and blinked heavily. “Gideon, that’s… not…necessary…” His eyes closed.

“Sleep well, Rip, we’ll see you later,” said Sara, replacing the oxygen mask and finally letting go of his hand. She led the team out of the medbay and towards their costumes for 2140.

***

None of the team particularly liked 2140 and the Kasnian Conglomerate. If this era held bad memories for Rip, then it held equally bad memories for the rest of them. At least Ray and Martin would be staying on the ship, assuming backup wasn’t required. They hadn’t found any trace of the Helios, although Gideon was still looking.

“Okay, we should be here in time to stop that shipment of weapons from going missing,” said Sara, fastening her black uniform coat with the red arm band, as she opened the door of the Waverider. Her hair was pulled back in a severe style so that she looked as if she was an officer of the Kasnia Conglomerate forces. She remembered how distasteful Rip had found it to put on this uniform last time they were here, and she felt the same now. It was like dressing as a Nazi, this uniform represented everything that they stood against.

 “They’re keeping the weapons in a secure bunker, so I don’t know how Zero’s planning to actually steal them,” said Ray, as he made sure that the team had everything that they needed. “Gideon couldn’t find much data on how they went missing. I guess that’s the military for you.”

“Yeah, things would be much easier if there weren’t so many damn secrets,” said Jax, pulling on his own black, military jacket. “Also, I’m kind of hoping to avoid getting entangled with any of those freaky ATOM bots this time.”

“They are not “freaky”, they’re based on my suit technology,” said Ray, slightly affronted. “Besides, I think we’re before the point when they were deployed in Kasnia.”

“They burned good, but metal isn’t usually my thing,” said Mick, who looked quite formidable in his Kasnian soldier’s uniform. He was clipping his heat gun to his belt.

“Well, at least we get to use a decent level of technology this time,” said Sara, holstering a sleek looking laser pistol under her coat to add to the knives that she’d already hidden on her person.

“Yes, but so do they,” pointed out Jax, with a little trepidation.

“We’ll be fine. We’ll do the recon and then work out where we go from there. We shouldn’t even come into contact with Zero and her men,” said Sara.

“Just be careful out there,” said Ray. “We know that this is a trap, and after what she did to Rip… she’s definitely got it in for us.”

Sara gave Ray a pat on the shoulder. “Like I said, we’ll be fine and we’ll check in every two hours. You just concentrate on making that antiviral so that we have a Captain to come back to.” She headed out of the cargo bay and down the ramp, only turning back to check that her team were following her.

“Yeah, have fun storming the castle,” said Ray, with a half-smile.

“Dude,” said Jax, with good natured dismay at the reference, rolling his eyes, as he walked past him and followed Sara.

Mick just gave Ray a glare as he went down the ramp, and Sara tried her hardest to conceal a grin, but failed.

The trio headed out, towards the military compound where the weapons were being stored. The Waverider closed its door and the camouflage engaged once again to hide it completely. They’d made sure it would be getting dark when they set out but not too late that the light was gone. They needed to get the lie of the land.

The compound was a series of concrete buildings with a high fence around it. That shouldn’t be a problem, but ensuring that they weren’t seen when they entered might be a bit more difficult. Everything in this time period seemed to be grey, from the concrete of the buildings to the clothes that the general populace wore. The only spots of colour were the huge red banners with the logo of the Kasnian conglomerate on it.

They got as close as they could before the cover of the trees gave out and there was open ground between them and the compound. Now, it was a matter of watching the compound to see what the guard patrol schedule was and how the gate was operated. It took them some time to conduct surveillance on the entire site and conclude that there was no easy route in.

“What do we think?” asked Sara. “Can we get in the front gate or are we going to have to cut through the fence?”

“They’ve got papers that they’re showing,” pointed out Mick.

“We could intercept someone heading to the base?” suggested Jax.

“Too much hassle,” said Mick. “I’ll melt the fence and we can get in that way.”

“Except there are cameras everywhere,” said Sara. “And if an alarm sounds then the whole Kasnian army will be on us.”

“Bad idea then,” said Mick. Apparently even he didn’t like those odds. “Let’s head down the road and jack a car.”

Sara raised an eyebrow, and smirked at Mick. “I like the way you think.”

“Er, Sara,” said Jax. “Look who just turned up.”

Sara turned back to the road. A very shiny black hovercar had just arrived and it appeared to hold an important individual who was being personally met by a high-ranking member of the military. A woman stepped out of the car and she was unmistakeable. The blue hair and glowing eyes gave away her identity, despite the fact that she was dressed in a Kasnian uniform not unlike the ones that they were wearing, except with more braid.

“Oh my god,” said Sara. “She didn’t steal the weapons, she walked in and was given them. Somehow she’s infiltrated the Kasnian military. We need to move fast, otherwise she’s going to get away with this.”

“Yeah, but we don’t have nearly enough fire power to take on an entire base,” said Jax.

“I know. Maybe we can beat her at her own game. We just have to prove that she’s an imposter,” said Sara.

“Dangerous games, blondie, since we’re imposters too,” pointed out Mick.

“We can’t let her get more weapons to sell to primitive civilisations,” replied Sara.

“And we need to get her to give us the cure for Rip,” added Jax.

“We’re going to have to capture her,” said Sara. “This is going to be more complicated than we thought. We can’t just blow the weapons shipment after she has it, because those weapons are needed here to prevent an aberration.”

“Whatever we’re doing, we need to do it,” said Jax, “because she’s in, and we’ve basically got until they load up a truck with weapons to fix this thing.”

Sara frowned thoughtfully. “Okay, let’s go get ourselves a car, but I think we’ll need Ray’s help and maybe Gideon can produce us some appropriate papers, and Ray can make sure the Kasnian military’s computer system agrees.”

Jax nodded. “Yeah, that should help.”

***

Rip opened his eyes to a blurry milieu of colours. He blinked, expecting his vision to clear, but it didn’t. He remembered the time jump and then darkness, and then he remembered why. He closed his eyes again because the blurred images they were sending to his brain were just a distraction. He needed to concentrate on listening. He heard some rustling, and became aware that he was wearing an oxygen mask. He suspected that someone was in the room with him but his eyesight was too poor at the moment to discern a person amongst the background noise. He reached up and removed the oxygen mask.

“Hello?” he tried. “Is someone there?”

There was the sound of a chair being pushed back. His hearing had returned so hopefully his eyesight would also be back properly soon.

“Ah, Captain Hunter, you’re awake,” said a voice that he knew belonged to Martin Stein. “Can you hear me now?”

“Yes, although I’m still having a little trouble seeing,” said Rip, attempting to look in Martin’s direction. “Everything’s blurry, just colours really.”

“It should clear up soon. Apparently, the jump inflamed your optical and auditory nerves, and some parts of your temporal lobe, producing the symptoms that you experienced.”

Martin’s voice was a disembodied thing in the room at the moment, and Rip was finding it slightly disconcerting being able to hear but not see. However, he’d take it over the total silence and blackness that he’d experienced earlier. If he hadn’t been able to connect to the world through his sense of touch then he had no idea what he would have done, and he was currently thinking that he should thank Sara when she returned for thinking of the finger spelling.

“I assume I passed out after the jump,” said Rip. “I just remember coming to in medbay with Sara tapping out messages on my hand.”

There was a pause and Rip was certain that something was up.

“You had a seizure,” said Martin, in what Rip knew was his tone reserved for breaking bad news gently. “Gideon explained that it’s a very rare side effect of time travel but given your condition…”

“It was not unexpected and that explains why my body feels like it went five rounds with Mr Rory,” said Rip, with understanding. “Still, I’m not sure that sedation was totally necessary, Gideon,” he looked up in the direction of the blur that he was assuming was the ceiling, his tone somewhat annoyed.

“Ms Lance requested it,” said Gideon. “She felt you would be better sleeping through the worst symptoms.”

“I appreciate her concern, but unless there is a good medical reason, then I’d always prefer to be awake. I’ve done enough sleeping lately. Which reminds me, Gideon, step down pain medication by two points, I can feel that it’s making me think slowly,” said Rip.

“Of course, Captain,” replied Gideon.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” asked Martin.

“I’d rather suffer some slight discomfort and be able to think straight. Gideon has discretion if I’m unable to make my own decisions, but I prefer to be less drugged up that she would have me. Gideon’s programmed to ensure that her patients’ experience as little pain as possible, but that does lead to a corresponding impairment of cognition. Besides, if it’s unbearable then I can always step it back up again,” said Rip.

“Well, you know your own ship’s idiosyncrasies,” said Martin.

“All ship’s AIs have the same underlying medical programs,” said Rip. “Although Gideon has definitely picked up a few interesting traits over the years, and has learnt a few bad habits. One of which is apparently listening to you lot when you tell her to do something.” Rip rubbed a hand across his forehead.

“Actually, I had a theory that I wanted to run past you in that regard,” said Martin, apparently pulling up a chair beside the medbay couch that Rip was reclining on.

Rip attempted a look towards Martin but still couldn’t see anything more than a blur. “Go ahead. Is this regarding Gideon?”

“Well, in so much as she is an AI, but I’m actually thinking about Godiva and the Helios. I have a hypothesis that something happened to Captain Meaden and she was badly injured. Is it possible that Captain Meaden was so badly injured that Godiva might have added the inorganic elements that Sara described as being part of Zero Hour? I took the liberty of checking your medical preference list and noted that you included an instruction that none of your limbs or organs should be replace with inorganic machinery without your express consent.”

Rip nodded. “Yes, because I know what happens when humans stop being humans. They lose part of what makes them who they are.”

He paused, considering the Hunters that the Time Masters had altered. He wondered how he’d ever managed to reconcile their existence with his job of protecting the timeline. Somehow it had seemed that they were a necessary evil in service of their higher goal, and he’d never considered what it had taken to create such beings. He’d been so blind to what was going on, but he was also beginning to realise that the Time Masters had committed a subtle kind of brainwashing to the children that they’d recruited to become Captains. They’d given them a home and a purpose, and created an atmosphere where rebellion was almost unthinkable. Rip was constantly surprised that he’d managed to be as much of a thorn in their side as he’d been, given his upbringing. However, he’d never forgotten what it was like to live on the street, and his mother had always encouraged his individuality, as she had with all her children.

“Captain?” asked Martin, and he realised that he’d been lost in thought for a little too long.

Rip looked back towards where he assumed Martin to be. “Yes. Sorry. Er, to answer your question, if Hera didn’t specifically state that Godiva should not use all life saving measures possible, her AI would have had the option to replace her body parts with mechanical equivalents. However, she would have had to have been extremely badly injured for Godiva to have done that. Normally a ship’s medbay can regenerate tissue, but it does have limits. As you know, regeneration taxes the body, especially if it is done a lot. You may remember that Mr Snart slept for most of a day after Gideon rebuilt his hand. Now, imagine if a whole body needed such treatment. The border between saving a person and killing the person would be very slight. However, in such circumstances, the medical program could use inorganic parts to save someone, usually with the intent of replacing those parts later.”

“So, it is possible?” asked Martin.

“Possible, yes,” said Rip. “Very unlikely though. Godiva would have tried everything else first. Unless…” He had suddenly been struck by a worrying thought.

“Unless?”

“Unless Godiva’s programming was also damaged,” said Rip. “Again, the Helios would have needed to sustain heavy damage. The self-repair systems would have to have been destroyed or damaged beyond repair. Which begs the question of what happened to it? What happened to Hera?”

“That, I’m afraid, I can’t answer,” said Martin.

“Dare I ask for an update on my own condition?” asked Rip, wearily.

“Unfortunately, as we expected, the virus has gained ground after the time jump and I expect you to be running a fever again in a few hours’ time,” said Martin. “Raymond and I are working as hard as we can to find a new antiviral, but once again the new mutation is proving to be very difficult, and different from the previous one. Whoever created this knew what they were doing. I’m sorry I can’t give you better news.”

“I appreciate all your efforts, Martin,” said Rip, sincerely. He caught movement in the direction of the door, and decided that Ray had probably returned. “And those of Doctor Palmer.”

“Hey, you’re awake,” said Ray, confirming Rip’s assumptions. “And you can hear.” He sounded quite enthusiastic about this.

“Indeed, but alas you’re still just a colourful blob so my eyes are not yet up to much,” said Rip.

“It’ll be better soon,” said Ray, optimistically. Rip hoped that he was right, because he was quite fed up with this. “How are you feeling?”

“I would really like people to stop asking me that,” said Rip, with annoyance.

Ray gave him a nod of understanding and at least didn’t press the question. “Yeah, I bet. Professor, I have the new cultures. One of them looks like it might be promising.”

“Ah, good work, Doctor Palmer,” replied Martin. “Let’s get back to work then.”

“White Canary to Waverider, Ray, we could do with some backup if you don’t mind getting the suit on.”

“I’ll be right there,” said Ray, his voice fading out. Rip could only assume that the inventor was going to put on his ATOM suit. He could hear Sara continuing the conversation with him as Gideon changed the speakers she was using so that Ray could continue the conversation as he moved. There was something about papers but he didn’t catch anything else. Then there was a lull in the voices, so Rip decided to see if anyone would actually tell him what was going on.

“Is there a problem, Ms Lance?” asked Rip, tiredly. Gideon would pick up his voice and transmit it.

“Hey, you can hear,” said Sara.

“Yes, still working on seeing. Why do you need Ray?”

“We need him to help us steal a car,” said Sara, her voice a little distorted by the radio.

“I probably don’t want to know why,” said Rip, with resignation.

“You’re supposed to be resting, not worrying about us,” pointed out Sara, unapologetic.

“Thanks to you, I’ve had quite enough rest for now,” replied Rip, crossly.

“You needed it, so quit complaining. Ray, what’s you ETA?”

“Five minutes,” replied Ray, back outside the medbay. “I’m leaving now. Hopefully this won’t take long, Professor.”

“Don’t worry about us. The Captain and I will be fine,” said Martin.

Again, Rip could only go by what he was hearing, because his eyes were still only producing blurry colours, but he thought he heard Ray snapping up the final components in his suit and then stomping from the room.

Rip felt totally useless, lying here, half blind and still without enough strength to even sit up on his own. His muscles ached from the seizure, something which was becoming more obvious now that Gideon had stepped down the painkillers. He pulled the blanket up around himself, he was cold and medbay was suddenly feeling very large and echoing. He shivered and then realised what that probably meant.

“Martin?” he asked.

“Yes, Captain Hunter.”

“Is my temperature up again?”

Martin got up and came over to look at the vitals on the screen behind the chair. “Yes, I’m afraid it is. That was quicker than we expected.”

Rip scrubbed a hand across his poorly functioning eyes and let out a defeated sigh. “Since when has anything we’ve ever done gone as expected. I hope the rest of the team are having better luck.”


	8. We Need to Talk

Stealing the hovercar was easy. Ray used his suit computer to hack into the high-tech engine controller that the hovercars in this era used and stop it at an appropriate place for an ambush. Then it was up to Sara and Mick to stun their victims without them alerting anyone to their presence, which wasn’t a hard task for an assassin and a thief. They had purposefully picked a vehicle that only had two occupants, which meant that Ray could take them back to the Waverider and leave them sedated in the brig while they took over their identities.

Getting Ray to access the computer systems and subtly alter a few things was even fairly straight forwards, and Gideon had provided them with appropriate papers. However, the entire process had taken longer than Sara would have liked. She sent Ray back to the Waverider to continue his work on the antiviral with Martin, and then they got down to the business of entering the Kasnian base. Mick acted as the driver, while Sara and Jax were the officials, sat in the back of the car.

There was a tense moment when Mick handed over their identification, and it was checked against the computer. Sara had sat through more of these moments than she liked to think about, tensing ready for a fight whilst trying to look like she was calm and relaxed. Mick didn’t even appear slightly nervous, and she supposed he’d pulled enough heists in his time that this was all fairly routine for him.

“Go ahead, Sergeant,” said the guard at the gate, noting Mick’s rank insignia on his uniform. “You can disembark your passengers at the drop off point to the left of the gate.”

The guard saluted and Mick managed to return it, even if it was a slightly clumsy attempt. The guard didn’t seem to notice, and then Mick was driving them through the gate and into the compound. Sara exchanged a look with Jax; there was no going back now.

Mick parked the hovercar, not in the spot suggested, because leaving it at a drop off point would have caused suspicion quickly. The three of them got out, trying to look as if this was all routine.

“Okay, how do we find her?” asked Jax.

“I think we look for the weapons,” said Sara. “If we can find where they’re being stored then we should be able to follow them to Zero.”

“Then what?” asked Mick.

“We pretend to arrest her for being an imposter,” said Sara.

“You think that’s going to work?” asked Mick, scepticism written on his features.

“Feel free to think of a better plan,” replied Sara, with annoyance. “And if it doesn’t work, well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

She strode across the road, trying to look as much like she belonged here as possible. If you looked like you knew where you were going then people were much less likely to stop and question you. Jax was beside her and had done this often enough that he was following her lead. Mick was a step behind them, keeping an eye out for trouble.

They rounded a corner and were confronted by a small group of soldiers loading crates onto a truck. It looked very much like this was what they had come to find, and Sara decided to bite the bullet.

“Wait here,” she said to Jax and Mick, “and stay out of sight for the moment. If this doesn’t work then I’ll need someone to get me out of trouble.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Jax.

“Improvise,” she replied.

She marched up to the soldier with a futuristic clipboard thing, who looked like he was in charge of the others.

“Who authorised this?” she asked, imperiously. “These weapons are already allocated.”

The soldier nearly dropped his clipboard thing and then snapped off a salute. “Sorry, ma’am. We have orders, ma’am.”

“Then clearly you were issued the wrong orders, soldier,” she said. “Where’s your commanding officer?”

“Here,” said a cold voice from behind her, with an electronic undertone to it. Sara already recognised it before she turned around and came face to face with Zero Hour.

“Colonel Hora,” said the soldier with surprise and another, rather scared, salute.

“The Major and I would like to have a private word,” said Zero, indicating Sara.

“Of course, ma’am,” said the soldier and he moved away.

“You’ve got some nerve,” said Sara. She signalled with a hand for Jax and Mick to stay where they were.

“Likewise,” replied Zero. “If you’re trying to disrupt my plans here then you’ll find yourselves in some difficulty. This isn’t my first visit to Kasnia.”

“Well, we have something in common then,” said Sara.

“Really? I’m surprised. Your Captain always despised this era,” said Zero.

“We go where we’re needed. You’re creating an aberration by being here and we fix aberrations,” said Sara. “I know you must have a cure for what you did to Rip, so maybe we could make a deal. We’ll let you have your weapons if you give us the cure for the virus.”

Zero actually laughed at that. “You don’t have the power here.” Her eyes flashed blue. “I do, and Rip Hunter deserves everything that is coming to him.”

Sara stood her ground. “Why do you hate him so much? He said you were friends once. What happened?”

“He made me who I am today. He and his AI. Of course, you all helped, but I know who is to blame,” said Zero.

“Rip Hunter is a good man,” said Sara. “Whatever happened to you, he didn’t intend for you to be hurt.”

“How would you know, little bird? You have no idea what he has done and what he is capable of. He lied and cheated his way through time in support of the Time Masters and their ends. He delivered twenty-four Time Pirates to the Vanishing Point, knowing that their fate was execution at the hands of the Pilgrim. He once let an entire town burn to maintain the timeline. And then he betrayed us all for a woman and a boy. Do you really think that makes him a “good man”?” Zero spoke coldly.

“I think he did what he had to,” replied Sara.

“And when he betrays you, like he did me, will you say the same?”

“He won’t,” said Sara.

“I said the same thing. Not Rip. He was the best of us. The most creative. The most tenacious. The most loyal… The most wanted time criminal in all of space,” said Zero. “We are done here, I believe.”

“Yes, we are.” Sara turned around, and shouted. “Soldier! This woman is an imposter. My team will take her to check her credentials and for interrogation. Return the weapons to storage.” She indicated for Mick and Jax to come and join her.

“Ma’am?” asked the soldier, looking between the two women.

“We have papers for her arrest,” said Jax, showing the soldier the papers that they’d brought for this exact purpose. It didn’t have the correct name exactly, but hopefully he wouldn’t check that part, just see an arrest warrant.

Mick grabbed hold of one of Zero’s arms.

“Soldier, you realise that you’re making a rather large mistake. It is that warrant which is faked,” said Zero.

“I think we should go and see Colonel Bruel and get this all sorted out, ma’am,” said the soldier.

“You’re wasting valuable time,” said Sara. “We need to get our prisoner under guard.”

She started to lead the team away.

“Enough,” said Zero, and she activated the glowing blue in her hands, sending Mick flying away from her.

The soldier backed away from her. Apparently Zero had never given away the fact that she had powers. “What are you?” he asked with horror.

“Disappointed,” said Zero.

“Toast,” growled Mick, grabbing his gun and firing in Zero’s direction from where he’d landed on the ground. She jumped out of the way, her uniform getting slightly singed in the process.

“Mick, we need her!” shouted Sara.

“We only need most of her,” replied Mick, which wasn’t very reassuring.

Jax, who was now closer to Zero than Sara, took a running jump at her and the two of them rolled to the ground. He too found himself thrown off by her blue light. He didn’t seem badly hurt, so Sara decided to try her luck. She grabbed her gun and fired, aiming to wing her quarry, but the blue light around Zero seemed to be a deflection field of some kind. None of her bullets hit their mark. The soldiers who had been loading weapons were now mobilising and had grabbed guns from the boxes destined to be loaded onto the truck. Sara realised what was about to happen.

“Get down!” she shouted, seeing Mick and Jax hit the ground again, just as the soldiers opened fire. Nothing seemed to touch Zero, and now the woman was being intercepted by a speeding hovercar. She had arrived with men, and Sara kicked herself for not anticipating that she might have backup.

She picked herself up off the ground, running in pursuit, even though she knew she didn’t stand a chance of catching her. Jax and Mick followed after her, but they quickly realised the futility of their chase.

“Damn it!” shouted Sara at the disappearing dust clouds. She was breathing hard from her exertions and angry at herself for failing to capture the one person that they needed in all of this. She turned around to find a group of very annoyed soldiers of the Kasnia Conglomerate pointing guns in their direction.

A man in a Kasnian military colonel’s uniform emerged from the settling dust.

“Major,” he said, pointedly observing Sara’s rank insignia. “It is procedure to check in with the commander of a base before opening fire on one of its officers. I fear we need to have a discussion, and then you can inform me as to what just happened here.”

She stood up straight, to attention. “Yes, sir. Apologies, sir.”

“My office now, Major,” he added, and clearly expected her to follow him.

She was faced with a stark choice: either she could follow him and maintain the charade for as long as possible, or she could run at this point and hope that the three of them made it out alive despite the odds. She didn’t like the second option, so decided that the first was really the only thing she could do. She indicated for Mick and Jax to follow, dropping back enough that she could whisper to both of them to play along. This was taking up time that would allow Zero to get away, but Sara had to protect her team members first and foremost. There really wasn’t much else to be done other than hope that their papers continued to be good enough to pass inspection. If they were shot by Kasnian soldiers then it wouldn’t do anyone any good.

“Yes, sir,” she said and the three of them headed towards a very dangerous dressing down.

***

It was hours before they could return to the Waverider safely. The Colonel had taken them to task quite thoroughly for their perceived insubordination. He had called Sara unprofessional and a disgrace to the uniform. She might agree with the first of those, because she’d totally screwed up this time.

The Colonel had then examined their papers. Luckily Gideon had excelled herself when it came to creating the forgeries that they’d been given, and the only anomaly had been the name on the arrest warrant, which they explained away as a pseudonym. No one seemed to be surprised by that. At least they had avoided being thrown in jail.

She’d managed to surreptitiously contact Ray back on the Waverider and let them know that it could be a while before they were back, but even so, she’d known that everyone they’d left on the ship would be worrying. It was a huge relief when they got back to the ship, but the main emotion she felt was guilt. They should have been able to capture Zero and instead they were returning empty handed.

Jax sighed as they opened the hatch. “What do we do next?”

“We see if we can track her down again,” said Sara.

“But we can’t time jump,” said Jax, his voice full of emotion. “Another jump would kill Rip!”

“I know, Jax!” Sara threw back at him. The stress was getting to them all and manifesting in anger towards each other. “Look, she didn’t get the weapons she needed. So maybe she’ll try to get them some other way and we can pick her up then instead.”

“Could be anywhere,” said Mick. “Lots of weapons round here.”

“Then we narrow it down!” shouted Sara.

Jax was silent and his face had lost its anger. He was looking off into the distance and one hand was fidgeting as he solidified whatever idea it was that he was having.

“You got something, Jax?” she asked.

“Actually, I think I might,” he said. “Gideon detected the Helios when she opened her hatch in AD 84 and it created a break in the cloak. That’s how Rip knew it was there and Gideon was able to communicate with Godiva. Now, unless Zero’s managed to fix the cloak, it should have a permanent field variance, and Gideon can scan for that. It might take a while to find the right thing to scan for, and then we still have to find her, and we’re assuming that she’s still here… but yeah, I think we can do it.”

Sara smiled. “Okay, go to the bridge and do what you need to do to get it working. Mick, get to the Library and ask Gideon for any aberrations in the timeline that have appeared since we fixed this one.”

“Okay,” grumbled Mick. This stuff wasn’t his forte, but Sara knew he could cope with a timeline check. “Beer first though.”

“Fine, as long as it’s only one,” chided Sara. “We might need to go out again if this pans out.”

“What are you doing?” asked Mick.

“I’m going to see how Rip and the geek squad are doing,” said Sara.

Jax gave her a knowing nod and headed out of the cargo bay in the direction of the bridge. Mick glanced back in her direction but he too headed out without any further discussion.

Sara didn’t bother to take off her Kasnian uniform and headed straight to medbay. She was worried, despite all her attempts to not be. The League had tried to train emotion out of their members, but she’d never found it easy. They had been gone several hours and she was dreading what she might find there, but she steeled herself and made the short walk to medbay. She desperately wished that she had some good news to tell them, but instead here she was with nothing but failure to pass on.

***

Rip had fallen asleep as his fever rose, so tired that he couldn’t keep his eyes open. His body had very little energy, such that he could barely lift his head. He was already dreaming feverishly of deserts and hot places, breathing in short, shallow gasps, despite the fact that it had only been a few hours since his temperature began to rise. However, he wasn’t sleeping deeply, because his illness was ensuring that was difficult by making him as uncomfortable as possible. Gideon was giving him painkillers and would probably start on the antipyretics soon, but the fever was probably helping his immune system at this stage, and they’d let it run unless it became dangerously high. So, he wasn’t in pain exactly, but his body couldn’t decide whether it was too hot or too cold at any given moment and this was thoroughly unpleasant. His skin was damp with sweat and, to add insult to injury, his hacking cough was also making a return.

Martin and Ray had been talking quietly about viral reproduction and proteins, which was too hard to follow and he’d given up listening to the words. He had found their voices somewhat soothing, reminding him that he wasn’t alone here. He vaguely heard movement and then louder voices. He didn’t open his eyes, not seeing the need or particularly wanting to alert anyone to his wakefulness.

“Hi guys,” said Sara. She didn’t sound exactly happy. Maybe the tone was tired or perhaps resigned or defeated, he wasn’t sure. Still he was pleased that she had returned and was unharmed.

“Sara, you’re back,” said Ray, with undisguised relief.

“Please tell me that you caught Zero and she’s going to give us the cure for this thing,” said Martin. He spat the word “thing” with obvious anger and distaste. Rip couldn’t help but feel the same way about the virus that was ravaging his immune system.

“I’m sorry. She escaped, but Jax thinks he might have a way to track her down and we’ll get her next time. How’s Rip?” Sara was now sounding concerned, and he vaguely wondered why. Most days he didn’t even think she liked him, and certainly wouldn’t be worried about him.

“He’s heading back into an acute phase,” said Martin. “It was quicker this time than before, and he’s hardly recovered from his last bout with this virus. His lungs are still congested, and he was already weak from the time jump.”

“We’re working as quickly as we can, but if this continues to move this fast, I doubt we’ll find the new antiviral in time,” said Ray, quietly, probably trying to ensure that Rip didn’t accidentally hear what they were saying. “His immune system is severely compromised and it just isn’t up to another fight this soon.”

“It’s that bad?” Sara asked.

“I’m afraid so,” replied Martin.

Rip opened his eyes in time to see Sara hang her head, and suddenly felt guilty for his pretence of sleep.

“I expect it could be worse,” he said, trying for bravado, but not quite hitting the mark, partly due to his weakened voice, and the way he shivered.

Sara met his eyes. “You can see?” she asked.

He nodded.

“How much of that did you hear?” asked Ray, guiltily.

“Enough to understand my situation,” said Rip. “You couldn’t capture Zero?”

“I’m sorry, Rip, we had her, but we lost her,” said Sara.

“I’m sure you did the best you could,” said Rip, weariness evident even in his voice.

“But it wasn’t enough. We’re not done yet though. Jax is trying to find a way to track her ship. He thinks the damage to the cloaking device might be enough for us to find the Helios,” said Sara, unaware that she was repeating something that Rip had heard before.

“Well, it’s worth a shot,” said Rip. Hope was dying though. Without Zero, they had very little possibility of finding a cure for the disease that was racking his body.

Rip let out a groan as a sharp pain ran across his chest. His eyes scrunched shut at the sudden pain that cut through even Gideon’s drugs, and an alarm began to sound. Something was wrong but he didn’t have the awareness or ability to ask what it was, as the sheer agony took his breath away.

“Captain?” asked Martin, going to Rip’s side.

“My chest hurts,” said Rip, struggling to get the words out but determinedly opening his eyes.

“The Captain is suffering from an irregular heartbeat,” said Gideon, silencing the alarm.

Ray now stood beside Martin, examining the readings on the screen. “The virus found its way to his heart muscles. They’re infected, and becoming inflamed. This is myocarditis.”

“That’s remarkably knowledgeable of you,” said Martin.

“I once thought about becoming a heart surgeon,” replied Ray, “but I decided that I preferred working on machines rather than people. There was less chance of killing someone by cutting into the wrong thing. Also, Star Wars, but that’s a story for another day.” Sara and Martin were both looking at him with barely disguised impatience. “Sorry. This is very dangerous. The heart muscle gets inflamed and it can lead to permanent damage. Heart attacks in myocarditis patients are common, but Gideon should be able to deal with this…”

“I am already administering the appropriate medication, Doctor Palmer,” said Gideon.

Rip’s breathing calmed a little. His left arm was aching now, but the pain was receding quickly. “That’s actually much better. Thank you, Gideon.”

“My pleasure, Captain,” said Gideon, with enthusiasm.

“Thank god for futuristic medicine,” said Sara.

“None of which will be of any help if we can’t locate a suitable antiviral,” pointed out Martin. “Back to work, Raymond.”

Ray nodded. “Yes, Professor.”

That left Sara with Rip, who was looking at her with slightly bleary eyes. He hadn’t lied about being able to see, but he was still a little unfocused.

“We need to talk,” said Rip.

“That sounds ominous,” said Sara.

“I need to say some things before I can’t say them anymore,” said Rip, trying to move a little to get himself into a more comfortable position, but his strength failed him. The medbay chair was supposed to react to his body and mould itself to his form, but somehow it just wasn’t helping at the moment.

“Rip…” began Sara, but he cut her off.

“No, just listen. I know what you’ll tell me: that you’re going to get Zero and make her give you the cure, and I have every faith that you will do your best to make that happen, but there is always the possibility that you can’t accomplish it. That possibility is now greater than it was,” said Rip, and had to stop to draw breath and then cough.

Again, Sara opened her mouth and Rip held up a hand to stop her. A shaking hand with no real strength in it, but she did at least understand what it meant.

“Just let me say this, please,” he said, pleading with her to allow him to just speak. He was so tired and weak, and he knew he’d be falling asleep again soon. This had to be said now, or he’d never get it out.

“Okay,” said Sara, giving in with reservation.

He spoke quietly and quickly. “The Waverider is yours, the team’s. Gideon will answer to you all, I’ve made sure of it. It’s up to you as to whether you want to carry on the mission after I’m gone or return to your homes. Gideon has contingency plans for either eventuality. You’ll find all my notes on my hunt for the remains of the Time Masters in my quarters, such as they are, I haven’t had much luck up until now. There’s a note of what I want my funeral arrangements to be as well…”

Now, it was Sara’s turn to cut in. “Rip, stop, we’re not going to lose you.”

“I’ve always known I’d die young, Sara,” said Rip. “This is just a little sooner than I’d expected. As I was saying, I’ve never been religious, but I know where Miranda and Jonas are buried and I would like to be with them… cremated, ashes scattered or buried, whatever is possible…” He stopped, and looked away, because he still couldn’t mention them without tears filling his eyes however hard he tried. He took a deep shuddering breath in, wiped the tears away with a shaking hand and ploughed onwards, turning back to Sara. “As to my effects, you’re welcome to anything you want to keep, all of you, but I’ve noted a few things that should be delivered to the Refuge, or returned to their rightful owners. Gideon can help with that. I’d appreciate it if you could take care of all that for me. It would make me feel better knowing that someone will have it in hand.”

Sara was blinking her own tears away and he reached out for her hand with the little strength that he had. He didn’t want to make her cry. The last thing he wanted was to hurt his friends. She moved her hand in to meet his, as she looked downwards, anywhere but at him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his breathing sharp and shallow. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do better for you and the team.”

“Don’t apologise! Don’t you dare apologise for this,” said Sara, somewhere between angry and upset, and her eyes suddenly on his. “You didn’t do this. You’re not responsible for what Zero did.” It was her turn to rapidly brush away the unshed tears.

“But you’ll do as I ask?”

“Of course I will. If it comes to it. I’ll make sure we take you to Miranda and Jonas, and your things are given to whoever you want, but I’m not giving up on you until you’re no longer breathing.” The sincerity in Sara’s eyes was like a fire, bright, powerful and disarming.

Rip couldn’t answer her for a moment. Both of them were still blinking away tears, and he wished that it didn’t have to be like this, for all of them.

“I know,” he said, inadequately. “I’d expect nothing less. I couldn’t have wished for a better crew. You truly are Legends, and don’t forget that.”

“It applies to you too,” said Sara.

Rip let out a surprised laugh. “I don’t think a disgraced Time Master is in the same category.”

“You underestimate yourself, Captain Hunter,” said Sara, with a forced smile. “You brought together a group of misfits and gave us a purpose, you gave us a team, a family.”

“Don’t let Mr Rory hear you say that,” said Rip, with an attempt at a wry smile. He squeezed Sara’s hand though, even as weak as he was, he could manage that. She met his eyes and for a moment there was understanding between them.

Then pain shot across his chest again and alarms were sounding, and he felt consciousness slip away from his grasp, his hand letting go of Sara’s without his permission. His only thought was that he’d had the conversation with Sara not a moment too soon.


	9. Domino Night Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to leave a comment on the last few chapters. Apologies again that I haven't replied individually, but I do read them all and really appreciate them.

* * *

 

Rip’s heart had been dangerously weakened by the virus, much like the rest of his body. It had stopped twice now, following periods of painful arrhythmia. Luckily, Rip had been unconscious throughout their attempts to get him back, which included shocking his heart back into sinus rhythm and Gideon administering more adrenalin than any of them had been exactly happy with. Then she’d instructed them to take out a small silver device from one of the medbay’s storage cupboards, no bigger than a quarter, and to place it on Rip’s chest over his heart. It had adhered to his skin automatically, and according to the AI would take much of the strain off his heart muscles, acting like a combination pacemaker and defibrillator as required.

They had then risked using Gideon’s cell regeneration field to restore his myocardium, but it was a temporary fix and not one they could use too often without it costing Rip more than it was worth. The virus would just destroy the cells that they’d restored, unless an antiviral could be found. Sara had reconnected the oxygen supply and run the tubing under his nose again, knowing how much he hated the mask, but already aware that there were worse things.

She’d meant to leave the medbay and check in with her other teammates but, instead, she had ended up sat beside Rip’s bed, again. Occasionally he’d open his eyes, blink and notice her. Sometimes he’d frown, forehead creasing with his attempt to remember, or perhaps understand, what was going on. Then his eyes would fall shut again, too exhausted to even stay awake for more than those few seconds. Other times, much rarer, she’d get something like a smile. She couldn’t leave him, not when she seemed to make him happy in some small way and she was the only one he ever smiled at. A full day passed like this, and she curled up on the chair next to his, as she’d done when he first came down with the fever. Her own exhaustion got the better of her and she closed her eyes.

She was awoken by Jax, and the glorious smell of coffee.

“Hey,” said Jax, as he handed her coffee. She took it gratefully, automatically looking over towards Rip and seeing that there had been very little change. She noticed that Ray and Martin had also been brought coffee, and she doubted that either of them had slept. Jax was looking at Martin in a very concerned way as the older man examined a petri dish. Sara knew that both Ray and Martin must be running on fumes and caffeine by this point, and that wasn’t good for anyone.

“Any luck finding the Helios?” Sara asked Jax.

“Gideon’s running my scanning program now, but there’s a lot of area to cover,” replied Jax. “Hopefully we’ll get a hit soon.”

“Eureka!” shouted Martin, making Sara jump and nearly spill her coffee.

“You’ve got it?” asked Ray.

“ _We’ve_ got it, Raymond,” said Martin. “This was a joint effort. Let’s synthesise it and run some checks while we’re waiting for that to happen. Then we can administer it.”

Ray nodded, tiredly. “Right, I’ll get right on that.”

“Is this a cure or another antiviral?” asked Sara.

“Antiviral,” replied Ray. “Neither Martin or I can see a way to tackle the viral engine without taking away the outer shell first. But the cure is our next step. We need to take more blood samples once we’ve started ridding the virus of its shell, and then we can get another look the structure of the thing inside. Hopefully that isn’t also mutating, or we’re in real trouble.”

“Dude, you both need to get some sleep,” said Jax. “I can feel how tired Grey is, and you can’t be any better.”

Ray shook his head, picking up the tablet that contained the new formula for the fabricator. “We can sleep after we’ve got the antiviral working.” He gave Gideon the formula and then went back to checking over what the side effects might be with Martin, while they waited for the first batch to be ready.

“Yeah, but after that I’m dragging both of you out of here,” replied Jax, folding his arms over his chest in a gesture of annoyance.

To Sara this felt like déjà vu. They’d been here before, except every time they dealt with this phase of the virus, Rip had less ability to deal with its next attack. And yes, Sara was calling them attacks, because the virus was basically a torture device and murder weapon combined. Rip was being assaulted by a clever but horrible weapon that would eventually kill him unless they could find a way to stop it, and it was all Zero Hour’s fault. Except now it was her fault too because she’d gone into a situation without a real plan to capture their enemy, and Rip was paying the price for her mistake.

“The antiviral is ready, Doctor Palmer,” said Gideon, and for the second time, Rip got to be a guinea pig for an experimental antiviral that they didn’t have time to test properly.

Ray injected their patient with the slightly bluish liquid and they waited. It took a while this time.

“I am detecting a successful reaction to the antiviral,” said Gideon.

Sara sighed in relief but was just too tired to summon up much of an appropriately jubilant reaction. Then Jax dragged Martin out of the medbay, and persuaded him to sleep. Sara delegated getting Ray to his quarters to Mick, who was happy enough to push the inventor out of the medbay despite his protestations that he needed to keep working.

It was several hours after that before there was any real improvement in Rip’s condition that could be noticed. And it was well into the middle of the night when Rip finally opened his eyes again and looked at Sara. His skin had taken on a disturbing grey tinge now, and his eyes were bloodshot and hardly focused. She knew instinctively that he was dying and nothing short of the cure would save him at this point. He’d lost weight over the weeks of his illness and his cheeks were sunken, making him a shadow of his former self.

“Hi there,” said Sara, meeting his eyes.

“Hi,” croaked Rip, his voice dry and weak. He seemed surprised to be awake.

“You made it,” said Sara. “Ray and Martin found the antiviral for this mutation and you pulled through.”

“This time,” said Rip, every word a struggle. She had to listen carefully to hear him, his voice was so quiet. “We both know… I can’t do it again.”

“Yes, you can,” said Sara. “You just need to keep fighting until we get Zero.”

Rip was shaking his head, feebly. “I’ve got nothing left to fight with, Sara.”

“Then we’ll do it for you. Gideon can give you drugs, help you to breathe, keep your heart going…”

“No!” said Rip, with horror. “That isn’t what I want.” He coughed and paused to breathe and collect his thoughts. “Don’t you see? This is what happened to Hera. She was so desperate to stay alive that she let Godiva do whatever was necessary.”

“Just until we can get the cure…” said Sara, gently. “No one’s suggesting you let Gideon turn you into a… cyborg _thing_ like Hera.”

“Gideon,” said Rip, wearily, “domino night revelation.”

“Are you completely certain, Captain?” asked Gideon, her tone unlike any that Sara had ever heard her use with Rip before. It was serious and unyielding, as if this was the most important question she could ever ask him.

“Yes, Gideon. No more,” said Rip. “This is what I want.”

“Understood, Captain.”

“What did you just do?” asked Sara, accusation clear in her voice.

“I gave Gideon permission to let me die,” said Rip, flatly.

“Rip, no, you can’t just give up,” said Sara, grasping his nearest hand in both of hers. She was almost pleading with him not to do this. “We can’t lose you. We’re not ready for that.”

“On the contrary, Ms Lance,” replied Rip. “We all have a time, and mine is now.”

Jax came tumbling through the door of the medbay just as she was about to take Rip to task for that. Instead of turning towards Jax, Rip’s eyes had closed and for a moment, Sara thought that he’d really meant this was his time to die, but his vitals showed that he was still breathing and his heart was still beating.

“Sara!” said Jax. “I’ve got it. I’ve found the Helios. She’s still here.”

Sara was on her feet in seconds. “Where?”

“I’ve got the coordinates. It’s not a long trip in the Waverider.” Jax was clearly enthusiastic to get going.

“Okay, we can do this, but we’ll need everyone. Get them together on the bridge. I’ll be there in a second.”

Jax looked between Sara and Rip, nodded and then moved away towards the bridge.

“Sara,” said Rip, blinking heavily, and she had to lean in to hear him. “If it comes down to saving the team or saving me, you pick them.”

He was on the edge of consciousness and, before she could answer, his eyes closed again, his head rolling to the right as he passed out. She’d been lucky that they’d had even the few words that they’d managed, and now she was angry with him.

“How dare you decide that you’re less important than us,” she said, furious with him, but knowing he couldn’t hear her. “We get to decide who’s important to us, not you. But don’t worry, Rip, we’re going to get her and we’ll make her pay for everything that she’s put you through. We’ll find the antiviral, take it from her if we have to, and you’ll be back to your self-righteous, asshole self in no time.”

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes for just a second, centring herself. She brushed his hair off his forehead, her hand lingering just a little longer than necessary. This was their last chance. They had to succeed this time, because Rip wouldn’t survive another viral mutation. She gave him one last look, remembering how he looked, frail and ill, as her motivation.

She left the medbay with determination and headed for the bridge.

She arrived there to find her crew standing around the central console, and she went to join them. They were examining the small amount of video footage that they had of Zero Hour and her escape from the Kasnian military compound. Ray had already donned his suit and the others were also dressed ready for battle.

“Okay, this is going to be tough. We need to get the antiviral to cure Rip, but we also need to take down Zero. Does anyone want to suggest a plan for how we do this?” she asked looking around at the group.

“I’ve had a chance to analyse those blue energy weapons that she uses and they look a lot like my suit repulsors. I don’t think she’s a metahuman,” said Ray. “I think this is tech, probably from this time period.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t notice you being bullet proof,” said Jax.

“Well, the suit armour is, but you’re right, the rest of me, not so much. I think she’s developed my repulsor beams into some kind of forcefield. Which is actually really cool, just not when it’s being used by the bad guy,” said Ray, guiltily.

“Not your fault, dude,” said Jax, a beat before Sara could get out the same sentiment. “But if anyone has a way to disrupt this then it’s got to be you.”

“Indeed,” added Martin. “You’re the only person that understands the fundamental building blocks of this technology, because you’re the person who invented it.”

“Maybe,” said Ray, with a shrug. “But I can’t see…” Then he frowned. “Wait, actually it could be to do with frequency.”

“Yes!” said Martin. He met Ray’s eyes and the two of them were clearly having a moment. “If your repulsors are the right frequency then they should pass straight through her force field.”

“Great, so Ray can take her down,” said Sara.

“In theory,” said Ray, with a raise of his eyebrows.

“It’s the best we’ve got,” said Sara.

“I don’t know,” said Mick. “I bet she still burns pretty well.”

“If we want the cure for Rip, then we need her and the ship intact,” said Jax.

Sara gave Mick a look. “Just maybe stick to punching stuff for the moment.”

Mick looked somewhat disappointed, but shrugged. “Sure thing, blondie, as long as I can light stuff up later.”

“I think we can probably find you something,” replied Sara.

“I fairly sure that I can get us into her ship,” said Jax. “I mean, it’s just like the Waverider so I know where the emergency access panel is.”

“But she may have more of those robots,” pointed out Martin.

“Yeah, but we can take them, Grey,” said Jax, with a touch of bravado.

“I suppose so,” replied Martin, reluctantly. “But you can’t fight robots and open the door.”

“No, but maybe Jax can tell me where to look and I can do it,” said Ray.

Sara nodded. “That’ll work. So, we can get on board. Once we’re on the ship, Mick and I’ll head to the bridge and keep Zero occupied. Ray, you get to the medbay and take what data you can from her systems. Hopefully the cure will be there, or there will at least be a record of it. Jax and Professor Stein, you run interference and watch our backs.”

There were nods all round as everyone accepted their assignments.

“What about if Zero doesn’t have the cure?” asked Martin. “What happens then?”

“The Englishman dies,” said Mick. “And we all move on with our lives.”

There was silence for a moment. Then Sara shook her head.

“That’s not happening. She wouldn’t make a virus like this and not create a cure for it,” she said, and she had to believe that because otherwise she’d have no hope.

“She’s got to have at least the original formula,” pointed out Ray, “and I can work with that to make a cure.”

“Okay, saddle up,” said Sara, shaking off the doubt that had crept in, “we’ve got work to do and we need to hit the ground running. Point us in the right direction, Jax.”

“I’ve given Gideon the coordinates,” said Jax. “We just need to find somewhere to land nearby.”

“Gideon, can you…?”

“Yes, Ms Lance, I have found us a suitable landing site, not far from our target,” replied Gideon.

“Good, plot a course,” said Sara, taking the pilot’s seat. She pulled down the metal restraining bar, as the others also took their seats. The engines powered up and she lifted the ship up from the ground, gently, mindful of Rip, unconscious in the medbay.

It wasn’t far to the designated landing site that Gideon had found them and Sara set them down equally gently. There was no ship to be seen through the front cockpit window but they were expecting the Helios to be cloaked so that didn’t worry her.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” she said, getting up from her seat. She turned away from the navigation console to look at her team and found them all staring out of the cockpit window.

“Miss Lance,” said Gideon. “I have detected a breach in the cloak of the Helios, and multiple approaching mechanised infantry robots are in the air and on the ground.”

Sara turned back to look out of the same cockpit window that everyone else was, and suddenly understood what they were staring at. There was a stream of robots flying and walking in their direction. They streamed out of the hole that had opened up in the cloak of the Helios, and there were many more than Firestorm and the Waverider had fought back at Durno. Gideon’s impact alarm began to sound as the robots opened fire, hitting the hull of the ship.

“Oh crap,” she said. “She’s been waiting for us. Gideon, open fire! Keep them occupied until we can get out there.”

“Of course,” said Gideon, and the sound of the Waverider’s guns firing rang out.

The team ran from the bridge, exiting the ship as quickly as they could manage. It wasn’t easy though. The robots were already attacking and making it hard to get down the exit ramp without being picked off. Gideon was doing her best to pick off any robots that got too close, but the sheer number of attackers was something that none of them were used to. This was like taking on a full-scale robot war.

 

Firestorm and the Atom zoomed around the sky chasing down teams of robots, and catching them in a crossfire, while Mick and Sara tackled the ground based onslaught. The heat gun was proving very effective against the robots, and Mick was clearly enjoying himself. The main problem was that there seemed to be an almost endless supply of the robots, so that when one wave fell a new one arose.

However, it did seem that they were pushing them back, which allowed them to get closer to the Helios and away from the Waverider and prevent more damage to the ship. Finally, Zero emerged from the Helios, but she was surrounded by an honour guards of robots, who were utterly determined to keep their mistress from harm.

Then the Waverider’s guns stopped firing.

“Gideon?” asked Sara and received static instead of a reply. “Guys, I can’t raise the ship!”

No one acknowledged her and she realised that it wasn’t just the ship that she couldn’t contact. All their coms were down, and so was their covering fire. Now the procession of death dealing robots became even more vicious, and Sara lost sight of their target as she fought for her life.

***

Rip heard the alarms but was barely conscious. He squinted upwards as the lights flickered.

“Gideon?” he asked. “What’s going on?”

“We are under attack,” replied Gideon. “Miss Lance and the team are in the process of engaging the enemy and have left the Waverider to better defend us. I am providing covering fire as required.”

Rip did his best to summon the strength to even sit up, but after struggling for several minutes with his own body’s inadequacies, he gave up. He could have wept with the frustration of failure. This was his ship and he couldn’t even get up out of his bed to protect her.

“Gideon, is it Zero? Is that who’s attacking us?”

“Yes, Captain.” Then there was a pause. “Oh dear. Someone appears to be attempting to gain unauthorised access to the Waverider.”

“Call Sara,” said Rip.

“Communications are being jammed,” said Gideon. “Something is wrong. Someone is… someone is…” and then there was silence. Suddenly the silence was broken by Gideon singing:

“Never know how much I love you,  
Never know how much I care,  
When you put your arms around me,  
I get a fever that’s so hard to bear…”

“Gideon?” he asked, then he realised what was going on. “Oh no…” A time ship’s AI could be hacked if one knew how to do it, and Gideon had known exactly how to take out her fellow time ships so that Sara and Snart could rescue the rest of her crew. She’d accessed their programs and put them into a loop, using music. It was beautifully executed and Rip had been amused by it when he’d heard what she’d done, whilst also admiring the brilliance of it.

“You give me fever,  
When you kiss me,  
Fever when you hold me tight,  
Fever! in the morning,  
Fever all through the night.”

“A little quieter, please, Gideon,” said a voice, metallic, sharp, female, not Sara.

Worryingly, Gideon complied, and her volume dropped.

“Sun lights up the daytime,  
Moon lights up the night,  
I light up when you call my name,  
And you know I'm gonna treat you right.”

Rip managed to turn his head so that he could look at the woman who had entered the medbay. His brow drew downwards as he tried to focus his eyes. She had dark blue hair, glowing blue eyes and an aura of electric energy that seemed to flow around her, but he could still recognise her, despite the metal additions to her body.

It had to be the fever. She couldn’t be on his ship.

“Poor Rip,” said the woman, approaching his chair, “so very sick. So very ill. No strength and feverish. Don’t worry though, it’s not for much longer.”

She reached out a hand and rested it on his forehead. He tried to move away from her, but as she said, he had no strength. She felt real, and cold compared to the heat of his own skin.

“Hera?” he asked again.

“No, I’m not Hera. I’m what you made me. I’m Zero Hour.” She paused and looked at the screen behind him. “They found an antiviral. Not the right one, but one that will at least keep you alive until I can get you back to the Helios. I think you’re ready now. My calculation was correct.”

“Why are you doing this?” he asked, struggling to get out of his chair and away from Zero.

“Because you deserve it. You should feel what I felt as I lost everything. My body, my mind, my beautiful Godiva, my friends, my home.”

“I didn’t take those from you,” said Rip. He managed to push himself sideways, out of the couch, and landed on the floor near the medbay door, ripping the tubes from the cuff as he did so. His entire body complained, and he needed to just breathe through the pain for second.

“But you did,” replied Zero, seemingly unconcerned by his escape attempt. He pushed himself across the floor further away from her, but that was the last of his waning energy. He didn’t have the ability to get himself to his feet, let alone move. He couldn’t get away, and they both knew it; this was just his obligatory, but futile, gesture of defiance.

“How?”

“Hera was returning to the Vanishing Point with her prisoner, a Time Pirate by the name of Calliope Dane. Everything was routine and she was looking forwards to seeing her dealt with properly. But, as she approached the Vanishing Point, there was an explosion. I didn’t know until much later what had caused it. Godiva couldn’t do anything to avoid the shockwave, and it threw the Helios back into the timestream. It also damaged our navigation system. Godiva was unable to retake control of the ship and without any way to steer us, we were swept up in the time eddies. The river of time threw us against the rocks of Jurgens’ Ridge.”

Rip felt his horror hit him deep down in the pit of his stomach. Jurgens’ Ridge would rip a time ship to pieces and escape was almost impossible. The time eddies in the area were like an impenetrable wall.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, genuinely distraught for her for a moment.

“Are you? I find that hard to believe since you were the one who killed the Time Masters.” Zero’s tone was bitter, as she turned her blue, glowing eyes on him.

“I am though. I didn’t want anyone to be hurt,” said Rip, breathing hard now from his attempts to be anywhere but here. “Especially not you.”

Zero stared down at Rip, and then crouched beside him. Her eyes met his and seemed to drill into him.

“Too bad, Rip, you created Zero Hour. It was only luck that allowed Godiva to throw us out of the time stream at Jurgens’ Ridge. By then she was so badly damaged that she just hit the switch on the time drive and dumped us where we fell. The crash at that point just made a bad situation worse. Hera was broken, there wasn’t much left to save, or a lot of Calliope either. Godiva was in pain, but functional enough that she was able to send out a distress call, and then we waited for one of the time fleet to arrive, but no one came. No one came because your AI had used the same program that I just did to disable most of the fleet, just so that she could help you escape.”

“You can’t blame Gideon for following her programming,” said Rip.

“But I can, because she wasn’t. Time ship AIs are supposed to be loyal to the Time Masters, instead she thought only of you. No one came to our rescue, so Godiva did what she could. We had ATOM robots on board, confiscated from Calliope. One of them carried the broken body of the Captain of the Helios to the medbay and then Godiva downloaded herself into it and performed surgery.

She couldn’t fix everything, especially with so many systems down, so she took parts from Calliope and the ATOM robots. Then she came to the brain. Even when it had been regenerated, there wasn’t enough left of Hera or Calliope to build one person, so Godiva knitted the two together with herself, to keep us sane.”

Rip shook his head. “Melding an AI with a human is the very definition of insanity. It’s an inhuman cruelty to both of you.”

“On the contrary. My Godiva sacrificed part of herself to make me whole, Rip. It was an act of sacrifice born from love and friendship. And it was you who pushed her to this. You made her who she is today, a broken, tortured, shell of herself, because her best parts are in me. Which is why I’m Zero Hour. Stronger than my broken pieces, and now I get to have my revenge on you.”

Again he shook his head, more vehemently this time. “No, I refuse to believe that Hera would do this. She wouldn’t inflict such a barbaric form of torture on a friend. That person must be in there somewhere.”

“I’m not Hera, I’m what became of Hera after you and your band of misfits killed her and made her ship insane. And you will pay for everything that you have done to me and Godiva. You and your precious Gideon, who disabled all the time ships that might have helped me. You and your precious crew who helped you destroy the Vanishing Point. I will make you half machine like me, and you will be my slave, mine forever, and you will watch them die at my hand.”

Rip’s eyes reflected his revulsion of that, and he tried again to summon he strength to move away from her. “No, please, this is insanity!”

She just gave him a quirk of the corners of her lips, as if she was enjoying watching him struggle against her.

Then she simply leaned down and picked up Rip from the ground. He tried once more to push her away, even attempting to take a swing at her, but she easily overpowered him. There was a rush of blue light and he knew no more, as Gideon continued her soft singing in the background.

“They give you fever,  
When you kiss them,  
Fever if you live and learn,  
Fever! till you sizzle,  
What a lovely way to burn,  
What a lovely way to burn,  
What a lovely way to burn,  
What a lovely way to _burn_.”

* * *

 


	10. Ain't No Sunshine When He's Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for the final part of this chapter which includes mentions of medical torture and enforced body modification.

* * *

 

“We’re losing this!” shouted Mick, melting the robot in front of him. He was close enough that Sara could hear him without his com working. Everyone had pulled back to be closer to Sara when their coms had gone down.

“What the hell happened to Gideon?” Sara shouted back. She stabbed a knife into the eye of one of the robots that she was fighting and it buzzed and stuttered with electrical shorts, collapsing to the ground. Another took its place. “We need the Waverider’s guns.”

“Coms are down,” came a shout from above, as Firestorm zipped past chasing a particularly swift flying robot. A fireball was flung at the speeding ATOMbot and then it was falling down to crash into one beneath it. Sara decided not to expend breath on shouting “I know” back.

“Maybe we should fall back to the ship,” said Ray, as he briefly touched down beside Sara before zapping yet another robot and pushing it into the three behind it.

“Yeah, except the robots have cut us off,” said Sara, with a nod of her head towards the main wave of deadly robotic killing machines.

She was worried. This had a purposeful feel about it. They’d been pushed back away from the Waverider almost immediately, and then overwhelmed. Zero had disappeared and they hadn’t seen her for a while. They were now on the opposite side of the Waverider from its entrance hatch and would have to fight their way around the ship to get back.

“There’s an emergency hatch in the roof,” said Jax, landing beside Sara and taking down another bot with a well-placed fireball. “I think I can open it from out here even if Gideon is down.”

“Okay, you go and find out what happened to Gideon. We’re going to take the fight to Zero,” said Sara.

“I like your balls, blondie,” said Mick, “but that’s lot of robots to take down.”

“Not if Jax can get the guns on the Waverider working again,” said Sara. “We’re overwhelmed out here in the open. We need to even the odds and I don’t think she’s expecting us to go on the attack again.”

“That’s because we’re outnumbered,” said Ray, setting himself down beside the group again, his back to Sara and Mick, keeping an eye on any robots who tried to take them by surprise.

“Yeah, but we just need a path cleared,” said Sara. She pointed in the direction of the Helios. “I’d say we need someone to fly in that direction knocking over whatever gets in their way.”

“You’re not serious,” said Ray, and he took in Sara’s expression for a moment. “You are serious. You want me to act like a human battering ram and clear you a route to the Helios.”

Sara nodded, her expression unwavering.

“Fly low, go for their legs. We’ll follow, and take out anyone that looks like firing on you,” said Sara.

Ray looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a speeding car, but then he shook himself out of it. His eyes were still wide, but now they were turned towards the path they needed to take.

“Okay. I can do this,” he murmured.

“Right, everyone, on my signal. We split and run,” she said and got nods of acknowledgement from everyone. “Go!”

Firestorm took off skywards, shooting down a couple more robots as they went. Ray rocketed away and ploughed through the groups of surprised robots in front of them. Sara sprinted forwards behind him, occasionally knocking ATOMbots out of her path with cursory, glancing blows. Mick was raining fire down the line to one side of Ray’s path and then the other. This wasn’t taking out many of the robots but it was advancing them across the field and to the door of the Helios.

When Sara finally stood outside the door to the Helios she was panting from exertion, but they now had to hold the position while Ray opened the door. Mick was only a few steps behind her and was playing his flames across the robots in front of them, driving them back.

“Ray!” shouted Sara, as she kicked a robot in the head and sent it reeling backwards. “Get the door open now!”

“Trying!” shouted Ray. “Jax’s instructions could have been more detailed.”

“No excuses, hurry it up, Haircut!” growled Mick.

Sara could hear Ray grumbling under his breath, but he was working on it and that’s all she needed right now. She grabbed a ream of wires in the back of the head of the robot she was currently facing off against, and pulled. The light flickered out of the robot’s eyes and it went down in a heap at her feet. She allowed herself a satisfied smile as she took out her sticks again, ready to face the next one.

“Got it!” shouted Ray. “Let’s hope I didn’t just make a Star Wars reference.”

“I’m not even asking,” replied Sara, glancing over to him for a second.

“You know? The battle on Endor, with Han Solo trying to open the door…?”

Sara gave him a look. “Just open the door on three and close it behind us.”

Ray gave a nod.

“One, two, three!” shouted Sara, hitting a robot in the head with one of her sticks, hard enough to shatter an eye.

Ray pressed two wires together, and behind them the hatch of the Helios opened. The robot in front of Sara staggered backwards and she rolled away and through the opening hatch. Mick stepped in after her, flames flickering over the robots in front of him. Ray was the last one to tumble inside and then hit the lever by the door to close the hatch. Sara had to prevent a couple of their more zealous pursuers from scrabbling through the closing door, but that was easy compared to what they’d just been through. The three Legends breathed a sigh of relief as the door swung shut.

The Helios was dark, operating only on low lighting. This wasn’t the red of the emergency lighting on the Waverider, this just wasn’t very bright. Perhaps, thought Sara, Zero just didn’t need much light to see with those glowing eyes of hers. As her own eyes became accustomed to the lower lighting, she looked around her and realised that there had been a fire on this ship some time ago. The metal around them was blackened and occasional areas of shiny new metal had been set into the burnt parts, patched seamlessly but still obviously newer.

“What the hell happened here?” she asked, fingering the burn marks.

“Nothing good,” said Mick, gruffly. He had a look in his eyes that he only got when they were talking about fire. It was the same look he’d had when he’d caught his younger self with a match. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

“Intruders,” said a female voice. It had a similar intonation to Gideon, but was higher and sounded slightly sad. “You have come to a ship without soul, and without mercy. All is lost within these walls. Sent to the four winds is my mind. ‘A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, and the dead tree gives no shelter.’ You would be wise to leave.”

“Godiva?” asked Ray. “You must be Godiva, the AI of the Helios.”

“What I once was is irrelevant. ‘I will show you fear in a handful of dust’.” Godiva’s voice was weirdly menacing and thin, like she was much younger than Gideon, but without any of her soft edges and sentiment.

“Well, that makes a ton of sense,” said Sara, sarcastically.

“She doesn’t sound like she’s all there in the head,” said Mick.

“Rip did say that the AI on the Helios was malfunctioning,” said Ray.

Godiva spoke again. “This is the dead land,  
This is cactus land  
Here the stone images  
Are raised, here they receive  
The supplication of a dead man's hand  
Under the twinkle of a fading star.”

“Wait, I know that,” said Ray, his face was a picture of deep thought for a moment. “It’s Eliot. She’s quoting poetry. Poetry about things falling apart. Entropy.”

“Let’s just get what we came for,” said Sara. She turned towards the stairs into the rest of the ship and saw several pairs of glowing blue eyes. These weren’t robots like the ones that they’d just fought, they were lower and scuttled. As they came closer they could see that these robots had multiple pairs of eyes each and eight insectile legs. They clanked along the floor, walls and ceiling, hanging upside down.

“Oh good, spider ATOMbots,” said Ray, miserably. “I love it when my tech gets used for evil.”

“Out the way, Haircut,” said Mick, and the fight was on again as he fried the nearest of the approaching bots.

“This is the way the world ends,” said Godiva.

***

It didn’t take long for the combined efforts of Jax and Martin to get through the emergency hatch and drop down into the corridor of the Waverider. Firestorm pulled the hatch shut behind them, and then they split back into their two parts.

Jax could hear singing and he knew immediately that it was Gideon.

“Ain't no sunshine when he's gone  
It's not warm when he's away.  
Ain't no sunshine when he's gone  
And he's always gone too long  
Anytime he goes away.”

“Gideon?” Jax asked, “what’s going on?”

The singing continued.

“I wonder this time where he's gone  
Wonder if he's gone to stay  
Ain't no sunshine when he's gone  
And this house just ain't no home  
Anytime he goes away.”

“Gideon?!” Jax tried again, but louder.

“I don’t think she can hear us,” said Martin. “The emergency lighting is on. I need to check on the Captain. If Gideon isn’t functioning then the medbay won’t be either.”

Jax nodded. “Okay, I’ve got to get to engineering and reboot Gideon. Something’s really wrong here.”

“Agreed. Please take care and meet me in the medbay when you’re done,” said Martin. “Also we really need to be able to talk to the rest of the team.”

“Sure thing,” said Jax and dashed off towards engineering. The Waverider was eerily empty when it was dark like this, and Gideon’s quiet singing was making it especially creepy. Jax headed straight for Gideon’s central processing unit and removed the outer panel.

“Sorry, Gideon,” he said, towards the ceiling. She hated being turned off. She’d once explained that it was more like when a human lost consciousness rather than just fell asleep, but she had no idea if she’d ever be woken up again. Rip always made a point of telling her how long he planned for her to be shut down if he ever had to take her offline, and he tried to do it as little as possible.

“I promise, I’ll be as quick as I can,” said Jax, just in case Gideon was listening on some level. Then he pulled out the wires that would shut her down and started a full system reboot. Rip had only shown him how to do this once, and they’d both acknowledged that it was a last resort, only to be used in dire circumstances.

The lights went dead, Gideon’s singing stopped in a descent of notes, and Jax realised that he probably should have warned Martin that everything would shut down, including the medbay systems. He hoped Rip was okay with the systems down like this. He worked quickly to get everything reconnected and prayed that it worked first time. He made the final reconnection, and things began to power up again.

“Gideon?” he asked, tentatively.

“Mr Jackson,” said Gideon. “I believe that my systems were corrupted.”

“Yeah, you were singing,” said Jax.

“Was I? How strange. However, we have more pressing matters to attend to. Zero Hour has taken the Captain, and he is not well enough to be away from the medbay,” said Gideon.

“What?” asked Jax, with alarm. “Are coms back online?”

“Yes, I have reset all com links.”

“Grey…”

“Jefferson, Captain Hunter isn’t in the medbay and there are signs of a struggle…” said Martin, in a rush before Jax could get a word in.

“I know, Gideon just told me. We need to tell the others what’s going on. Gideon, can you put me through to Sara?”

“I’m sorry, Mr Jackson but communication outside the ship is still being jammed,” said Gideon. “Also, it appears that our intruders didn’t just make me sing. My system has been infected with a computer virus.”

“Gideon…” said Jax, worriedly. “What can I do?”

“There is nothing that you can do, Mr Jackson. I must fight this on my own and eradicate it from my systems using my antivirus protocols. If you hadn’t rebooted me then I wouldn’t have that ability. However, I will have to take all non-essential systems offline and dedicate all processing power to the fight.”

“Do it,” said Jax.

“Shutting down non-essential systems,” said Gideon. “Mr Jackson, before I shut down my voice command system, I must ask you for something.”

“Whatever you need, Gideon,” replied Jax.

“When you next see him, please tell Captain Hunter that this was not his fault… if I am unable to,” said Gideon.

Jax took a moment to decide how to reply to that. What did you say to an AI who was worried that her Captain was going to feel guilty that she’d been put in danger? Of course, knowing Rip, she was probably right.

“Yeah, you can tell him yourself when you’ve beaten this virus.”

“But in the meantime, he may require reminding,” said Gideon.

“Okay, I’ll tell him. Now, go beat that virus’ ass,” said Jax. “We’ll get Rip back safe. Sara, Mick and Ray are already on it.”

“Understood, Mr Jackson,” said Gideon, and she didn’t respond the next time he called her name.

“Jefferson, we’re on emergency power again,” said Martin, over the coms.

“I know. Gideon found a virus in her systems. She’s dealing with it but she can’t keep the ship’s systems running while she does it,” said Jax.

“I see,” said Martin. “Is there any way that we can use the ship’s guns on a manual setting? It’s the only way we’ll defeat the rest of those robots and clear a path to the Helios, and it would seem that that the rest of the team will be needing us.”

Jax considered that for a moment. “Maybe. I’ll meet you on the bridge, Grey. This is going to need both of us.”

***

Rip awoke in a medbay that wasn’t his, wearing only his underwear. The lighting was wrong, the slight smell of blood in the air was wrong, and the fact that he was restrained was all wrong. Not that he had the energy to really move much anyway, so the restraints were basically unnecessary. A new medical cuff could be felt in place around his right wrist. He was shivering, and no one had thought to provide him with a blanket, but this didn’t feel like the kind of medbay where blankets were given out to patients. Then the memories began to return and he realised why this medbay was so wrong, and he instinctively pulled against the straps holding him down. He might as well have been clamped down with metal bars for all the good it did him.

He looked around him and saw an ATOMbot off to his left. It was working on something, and then it turned around to face him and Rip couldn’t help but recoil at its face. Unlike the other ATOMbots this one had a doll-like face made of what appeared to be smooth porcelain, chipped at one edge. It was expressionless and quite horrifying, reminding Rip of any one of a hundred generic horror movies with demon possessed dolls as the antagonist.

The rest of the room was a nightmare vision of machine parts, and what looked to be human organs suspended in some kind of liquid and arrayed on shelves around the room. There were surgical instruments laid out on silver trays. A large saw drew Rip’s eye to it, but beside it was a pair of shears that could only be used for cutting rib bones. They had gleaming sharp edges and the little light that there was bounced off them at strange angles.

Rip knew that he was drugged with something that was making it hard to think and the colours around him brighter. He wondered if it was also feeding the strong sense of fear that was descending upon him, or if that was just a very natural reaction to finding himself in what could only be described as a medical torture chamber.

The ATOMdoll-bot was carrying a tray with a robotic arm on it that it placed on a table beside the couch that Rip was on. There were glowing blue eyes beneath the mask.

“Those are pearls that were his eyes,” said a voice from the robot. “Are you alive or not? Is there nothing in your head?”

He recognised this as an AI voice, but somehow corrupted. It wasn’t as pleasant as Gideon’s voice or as happy sounding. This voice had menace and hurt behind it. It also wasn’t making much sense.

“It’s polite to introduce yourself before you tie someone to a bed,” said Rip, attempting defiance. “At a guess, I would say that you’re Godiva.”

“What I once was is irrelevant,” said the robot. “Zero Hour has conducted her calculation of entropy and decided that you are ready. Your body is broken, and sick. It must be mended.”

“You and Zero Hour _made_ me sick when you infected me with a virus,” spat Rip. “Godiva, I know that some of your original programming is still there. I’m a Time Master, you should obey my commands. My name is Rip Hunter and I will be listed in your files. Release me from these restraints.”

“I know who you are, Captain Rip Hunter. ‘And I Tiresias have fore-suffered all, Enacted on this same divan or bed; I who have sat by Thebes below the wall, And walked among the lowest of the dead.’” The last words were said in a sing song tone as if she was quoting from something. Rip vaguely recognised it as from a poem, and that for some reason Godiva’s madness was expressing itself with this strange lexical device. He was too exhausted and preoccupied to really think about what the poem was or why she would be quoting it. The robot moved away.

“Godiva, please, you know that what she wants to do to me isn’t right,” said Rip.

“Humans are fragile. ‘Consider Phlebas who was once handsome and tall as you’. You will be upgraded and be stronger,” said Godiva. “My Captain requires a companion. One that will not age, as she does not.”

She turned back toward Rip and this time she had something that looked like a mechanical heart on a tray in her hands.

“No,” he shook his head, and pulled against the restraints again, more from desperation than anything else. “This is barbaric.”

“Unable to take your medicine, Rip?” asked a new voice from the doorway. Zero stood there, looking at him. “Godiva has assessed that you’re ill and has decided the best way to treat you.”

“Hera, this isn’t right,” Rip repeated. “I know that what happened to you was terrible, and I can’t imagine what it was like for you, hurt and alone, but Godiva acted because she was trying to save you. Doing this to me won’t take back what happened. Revenge isn’t going to solve anything. I speak as someone who tried it.”

“But I have been planning this for so very long. As soon as I realised that it was you that was disrupting my arms deals, I knew what I was going to do. I needed that money, and you couldn’t even let me have that. Our fabricators are still barely functional and can’t support my needs or everything that’s required to make repairs. Calliope had a number of good contacts in the bioweapons market and I found someone who was all too happy to give me an appropriate virus, coded to your DNA,” said Zero.

“But how…?”

“Did I get you DNA?” said Zero. “It was quite simple. I just had to remember a time period that you’d been to and told me about. It wasn’t hard to track down the great Captain Rip Hunter and remove the martini glass he’d been drinking from at the bar.”

Rip let out an exasperated sigh. Had it really been that easy to create this weapon that she’d used so well against him? How could he have guarded against such a thing? It was impossible not to eat or drink when on a mission.

“I think it’s time we put you out of your misery. Even I am not a monster, and it really has been quite unfair of me to drag this out for so long, but the virus has done its work now. It’s time to put you back together, assemble your new form.” Zero Hour was watching Godiva as she moved about the room, preparing things that Rip preferred not to think about.

He was having trouble staying awake now, and focusing on anything was becoming difficult. He was still just as sick as he’d been before and he’d expended more energy than he had available with his struggling.

“Please, don’t… please, don’t do this. Please, for Miranda… our memory of her… our love of her… please, don’t…” he pleaded, begged.

“You dare to speak her name here?!” shouted Zero. “The woman that you betrayed us all for. If you hadn’t broken the rules then none of this would have happened, but you couldn’t just let her go. Then you got her killed too. You deserve this, Rip. You deserve this and worse.”

Rip turned his head away. “You’re right, of course,” he whispered. “But not my crew, they were only guilty of following my orders, as was Gideon.”

“Your crew, perhaps, but not the AI. I’ve already dealt with her, though. She’ll be as broken as Godiva by the time my program is finished with her,” said Zero.

That got through the layers of befuddlement and suddenly he was wide awake again, and his eyes were on Zero once more. “No! Gideon didn’t do anything wrong. She’s my AI, programmed to look after me, like Godiva was programmed to look after you. She couldn’t have done anything else.”

Zero stepped closer to his bed. She reached out a hand and brushed his hair away from his forehead. It was a tender gesture that had no place here, and he flinched away from it.

“I’m so sorry, but it’s too late, Rip. By now Gideon will be well into AI senility and I doubt anyone can bring her back from that. Even if your friends can get back to the Waverider, they won’t be going anywhere without a functional computer. Now, lie back, relax and let Godiva work. Everything will be much easier if you just accept that your place will be by my side from now onwards. There’s really no need for all this panic and distress.”

An unexpected rage had been building at Zero’s words, and he found himself struggling against the restraints once again. They bit into his skin as he tried desperately to get free. “I’d rather die than be your robotic slave, and I will find a way to stay myself. I will not let this stand.”

“Godiva?” asked Zero, ignoring the struggling man before her.

“Yes, Zero Hour,” replied the AI robot.

“Start with his heart. I believe it’s infected and damaged. It’s a priority for replacement. Then you can move on to the important work on his brain, before we tackle his eyes. Both legs, both arms and a new pair of lungs are in order I think.”

“As you wish,” said the AI. The doll-faced robot picked up a scalpel. “‘”Put your shoes at the door, sleep, prepare for life.” The last twist of the knife.’ Goodbye, Rip Hunter.”

Suddenly Rip felt himself being pulled under by the effects of a sedative on his system and try as hard as he might, he couldn’t stay awake. He passed out, unaware of whether he’d wake up himself ever again.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to hear the songs that Gideon sings then you can find the versions that I was listening when I wrote this on YouTube:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wyJSc4KlmPA - Peggy Lee, Fever  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ccmXWBluxIc - Eva Cassidy singing Ain't No Sunshine


	11. Caught in the Crossfire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't find anywhere sensible to break this chapter, so here's a long one. And we're on the home straight now.

* * *

 

ATOM spider-bots were the worst, in Sara’s opinion. They deserved to die in their hundreds and she was currently making sure that happened. One of the hideous creatures had already slashed her across the arm, leaving a deep cut that would probably need help from Gideon to heal without scarring badly. The blood had soaked down her arm and she was currently ignoring the wound, whilst being slightly concerned about the amount of blood that had leaked out.

Ray had miniaturised himself and was busy taking out bots from the inside by destroying their central processing units. This had been working pretty well until an electrical short hit him and he lost the ability to fly. He’d gone back to his full size and started blasting the spiders, which took a bit more effort due to their armour, but did work.

Mick now had another burn to add to his collection, but it was a minor one compared to some of his others. He was roasting the eight legged robots and melting the wiring, leaving them as pools of molten metal on the floor.

The last spider-bot fell to the ground, and Sara crushed its head with her boot.

 “Between the idea, And the reality, Between the motion, And the act, Falls the Shadow,” said Godiva. “For mine is the Kingdom.”

“Yours?” asked Ray, breathing hard.

“I am a creator, a protector, this is my domain,” said Godiva.

“Where’s Zero?” asked Sara, angrily. Sara was beginning to really hate the Helios’ AI.

There was silence.

“I guess we’re doing this this the hard way,” said Sara, taking the steps upwards from the cargo bay two at a time. Mick and Ray followed her, and they scanned the corridor for the next threat.

Godiva spoke again. “I have more creations. You will not reach him in time.”

That stopped Sara in her tracks.

“Him? Are you talking about Rip? Do you have the cure for the virus you infected him with?”

“We whisper together. He screams in his head,” said Godiva. “Zero Hour has plans and she will make him pay for everything that he did to us.”

“It wasn’t him, you crazy machine,” growled Mick. “It was the Time Bastards.”

“There are no eyes here, In this valley of dying stars,” said Godiva. Sara exchanged a look with Mick and clearly neither of them had any idea what that meant.

Sara walked forwards down the corridor, sticks in her hands and her eyes darting from side to side, on the watch for anything that moved. The Helios wasn’t the same layout as the Waverider. The corridors didn’t lead to the same places and medbay wasn’t where Sara was expecting it to be. She was starting to feel disheartened by their lack of progress and they were too short on time for simply walking every corridor.

“Does anyone have any guesses about where the medbay is on this crate?” asked Sara, with frustration.

“I can try logging into the ship’s systems,” said Ray. “But I’m not sure how far I’ll get. I’ve never managed to hack into the Waverider’s systems the hard way. Gideon’s a pretty good gatekeeper.”

“But Godiva’s not Gideon,” said Sara, refraining from asking why Ray had been trying to hack into the Waverider. Knowing him, he’d been doing it just to see if he could.

“Yeah, she’s not playing with a full deck,” said Mick.

Ray gave a half shrug. “Okay, cover me while I try this.” He tapped away at the screen on the arm of his suit, not looking up.

Sara did as Ray asked, just as three ATOMbots came around the corner. Mick opened up his heat gun on the robots and they backed off for a second, giving Sara time to attack and take one of them down. Mick doubled down and melted the head from the shoulders of a second robot. Sara kicked out at the third robot with enough force to send it reeling into a wall.

“Ray, we need to go,” said Sara. More robots would be coming.

“I think I’ve got it.  I just need a couple more seconds…” he said. There was a pause. “Sara! She’s got Rip.”

Sara turned back towards Ray and saw the utter horror in his eyes. “What? How?”

“I don’t know, but we need to find him, now,” said Ray. “She’s hurting him, Sara.”

Sara lashed out with more force than was completely necessary to disable the final robot.

“Which way?” asked Sara, urgently.

Ray pointed in the direction that the bots had come from.

“Figures,” grumbled Mick.

“Let’s go,” said Sara, and waited for Ray to go ahead so that they could follow.

They set off at a jog, with Ray checking the direction that they were going every so often. They took out six more ATOMbots along the way and Sara was beginning to wonder how many of the damn things Zero could have. They moved into a new corridor, and Ray came to a halt, with Sara and Mick nearly crashing into the back of him. The three of them flattened themselves against the wall.

“In there,” said Ray, pointing to a doorway a couple of feet away. “He’s in there, but so is a scary looking ATOMbot and Zero Hour. Sara, it’s not pretty. I tapped into the camera feed…”

“I get it, Ray. You take care of Zero, we’ll deal with the bot. Our priorities are getting Rip out of there and finding the cure.”

“Less talking, more killing,” said Mick, and stomped forwards.

Sara followed him, but stopped in her tracks. Yes, Ray had said it wasn’t pretty, but she hadn’t been prepared to see Rip’s chest sliced open down its centre. The white edge of the bone of his sternum could be seen and blood dripped onto the floor, Rip’s blood. The robot stood with a scalpel in its hand, having clearly been the one to make the incision. About the only good thing that could be said was that Rip was apparently unconscious and unaware of whatever they were about to do to him.

“You bitch!” said Sara, turning her full attention on Zero and advancing on her. “What the hell were you going to do?”

Zero smiled at them, as if they were unimportant. “We are upgrading him to a more perfect form.”

“No one hurts our Captain, well, no one except us,” growled Mick. He had his gun out and pointed at the robot. “Fix him before he bleeds out.”

Ray had his arm up and ready to fire on Zero.

“You’re interrupting his metamorphosis,” said Zero. “We’re turning him into something better than he was. Poor Rip, so broken and tortured. He was dying slowly, inside and out, body and mind, but I’m giving him a new life. You should be grateful to me.”

“He didn’t ask for that and I know he’d hate what you’re doing,” replied Sara.

“You’re right. He begged us to stop, and even invoked the name of his dead wife. That’s irrelevant though. I can’t allow you to interfere now,” said Zero, clearly taking pleasure in causing pain to Rip and taunting Sara.

She began to glow with bright blue light. Her hands were now surrounded with glowing balls of energy. The shield that had surrounded her before sprang into being as if by magic.

Ray fired at Zero and Sara could tell that she was surprised when the beam penetrated her shield. It hit her full in the chest and she was thrown backwards to the floor. However, she was undeterred, apparently she was smart enough to wear armour, and instead sent her own blast of energy out from both her hands and into Ray. He found himself flung out of the medbay, as Zero crawled to her feet.

Mick turned his heat gun on the woman and although it didn’t penetrate the shield, it didn’t need to. The heat was enough to cause Zero to think twice. Meanwhile, Sara tackled the doll-faced robot to the ground, knocking the scalpel out of its hand and straddling its middle. She pummelled its face with her sticks, breaking the face across the centre and revealing the electronics beneath. Sara kept hitting until she was certain that the robot wouldn’t move anymore. She had to take her anger out on something.

She turned around to find that Ray, Mick and Zero had moved the fight to the corridor, which was definitely something that she was in favour of. She stood, giving the robot a final kick for good measure, and then spun around to survey the damage that had been done to Rip.

“Godiva, can you heal him?” asked Sara.

“I could, but he is not worthy of my help,” said Godiva, which was remarkably cogent.

“You’re programmed to save lives, so save his,” said Sara, casting around the room for anything that she could use to stem the bleeding. She found some gauze pads and pressed them to the wound,  applying pressure as hard as she could.

“I’m glad it’s over,” said Godiva.

Clearly Sara was getting no help from that quarter and Rip’s life was slipping through her fingers. There were more instruments on a tray to her left, any of which might be the cauteriser that she needed, but she had no idea which it might be. Gideon would have simply cauterised the wound and regenerated it in a couple of easy steps, but Sara didn’t know what to do here.

She could hear the sounds of the continuing fight outside. Two against one was a fair deal in these circumstances as far as she was concerned. But with Zero still fighting in the corridor, there was no chance that she could get Rip out of here. She also couldn’t search for the antiviral while she was applying pressure to the wound. She looked up at the screen that showed Rip’s vitals, and could see that his blood pressure was dropping.

“Come on, Rip,” she said. “This isn’t how you die. I won’t let it be.” The reality of the situation belied her words though. Her fingers were covered in his blood, as it soaked through the pads. She couldn’t leave him, but she couldn’t let the others fight Zero alone.

“Sara,” came Jax’s voice over her coms, and she nearly jumped for joy. Maybe there was hope after all.

***

Jax would be totally happy if he never saw another robot in his life. He and Martin had managed to hot wire the Waverider’s guns. Well, it was slightly more complicated than that, and it had needed both Jax’s mechanical expertise and Martin’s scientific knowledge to get them even to the hastily jerry-rigged system that they now had. Rip was going to have a fit when he saw the cables strewn about the bridge, although Jax was hoping he’d have a chance to return it to something closer to its usual state before that happened.

Jax and Martin now had to work together to fire the guns and target the robots. This was proving to be about as difficult as having two people in one body as Firestorm.

“No, to the left, Jefferson,” said Martin, with frustration.

“You’re welcome to come over here and take over the targeting,” replied Jax.

“I’m fine where I am. You just need to be more accurate with your aiming,” said Martin, as he fired and three robots bit the dust, hit by one shot.

“Hey, come on, you have to agree that was awesome,” said Jax.

“Yes, yes, but on to the next one,” said Martin.

“Actually, it looks like they’ve finally had enough,” said Jax. They’d taken out a good number of them and decimated the pack. Most of the rest seemed to be heading back to the Helios.

“That’s good for us, but less good for Miss Lance, Dr Palmer and Mr Rory,” replied Martin, worriedly.

“Yeah, and I bet it’s not going to help Rip either,” added Jax.

“That was taken as read.” Martin peered out of the cockpit at the final few robots that were making a run for it. “I don’t think we should let them get away.”

“Yeah, that’s not something we want.” Jax began targeting again as Martin opened fire.

“I really miss Gideon,” they both said together, producing something of a smirk from Jax and an embarrassed look from Martin.

“I think that’s the extent of our success from here,” said Martin. “I’d suggest that we go out and tackle the rest ourselves. Head on, one might say.”

“With some fireballs? You’re on, Grey,” said Jax, holding out his hand.

The moment of merging was always intense, but Jax took a deep breath and the two of them flew off as one entity, pausing only long enough for Jax to throw the lever on the door to open it. He had learnt a few things during his time as Firestorm, one of which was that no one appreciated having to replace the Waverider’s doors all the time. This was especially true since it often fell to him now to do the work.

Firestorm flew across the short distance between the Waverider and the Helios. They grabbed robots and dropped them on others, then fireballed the resulting pile of waving limbs. This seemed to be quite a good tactic, cutting through the remaining robots with relative ease, and without having to worry about where they were firing because their friends weren’t also trying to fight on the same field.

“ _Well done, Jefferson,_ ” Martin congratulated his partner mentally.

“Yeah, let’s get a few more,” said Jax.

“ _Agreed, but time is of the essence. Captain Hunter and the others need our help_.”

“Okay, we’ll take out just enough so that they won’t bother us.”

When they reckoned that they’d got enough of them, they headed for the Helios’ door.

“Do we care about this door?” asked Jax.

“ _I think not_ ,” replied Martin. “ _Feel free to blast it._ ”

Jax didn’t need to be told twice. Some days he wondered if he was rubbing off on Martin, because he was pretty sure that Grey never used to say “blast it”. The door disintegrated in an explosive burst of flames, and Firestorm flew inside.

“Do you think the coms will work now?” asked Jax.

“ _It would certainly be worth a try_ ,” replied Martin.

He tapped his com and spoke. “Sara, this is Jax, we made it to the Helios…”

“Jax!” shouted Sara, with emotion. “Get your ass to the medbay. We need you here asap.”

“Okay,” said Jax. “Sara, there’s some stuff you need to know…”

Sara cut him off. “Not now, Jax, just get up here and I’ll explain.”

Martin gave a mental shrug and Jax decided that he’d best do as asked.

“I’m going to need some directions,” he said, as he headed up the stairs and realised that this didn’t look anything like the Waverider. Sara obliged, tersely, as if she was under considerable stress. She didn’t sound like she was out of breath, so she wasn’t fighting. Jax was actually more concerned by that thought. What could make Sara concerned that didn’t involve a fight?

Firestorm flew around the corridors and came face to face with an actual fight involving Ray, Mick and Zero Hour.

“We got this,” said Ray, as he exchanged blue bolts of energy with his target. He and Mick dodged sideways as she shot at them, hiding behind a bulkhead support for cover. “Go help Sara.”

Jax frowned. “Okay, but I’ll be right back.”

He picked his moment and dived for the door which he assumed to be for the medbay. He rolled to his feet and took in the sight before him. Rip lay, unconscious on one of the medbay couches, half naked and looking ridiculously pale, so pale that his skin was almost grey. Sara stood with her hands pressed down on a bloody wound that ran down Rip’s breast bone, and her eyes were wide with stress and concern.

“ _Dear god_ ,” said Martin, but only Jax could hear that.

Jax and Martin split apart and Jax rushed to Sara’s side.

“I’ll take over,” said Jax. “You cover us.”

Sara nodded reluctantly, releasing the pressure and moving out of the way to let Jax in. Her hands were covered in Rip’s blood. “We need to cauterise the wound, or stitch it or something. He’s going to die from blood loss before we can get him back to the Waverider,” she said, more rattled than Jax had ever seen her before, however she moved to the doorway and kept guard, her sticks drawn once more.

Martin was already searching the room, going through the cupboards and drawers. “I take it Godiva was of no help.”

“You take it right,” said Sara. “What are you looking for?”

“The hand-held cauteriser,” said Martin. “Gideon has one on the Waverider for emergencies, such as when her systems go down. The Helios must have one too.”

Martin opened another drawer and pulled out something that looked like one of Rip’s sonic wrenches, but had more buttons on the handle. “Got it,” he breathed with relief. “We’ll need something to clean the wound with.” Again, Martin cast around, grabbing a bottle of something, which he tentatively sniffed, and more gauze pads.

“Jefferson, I need you to remove the gauze and pour this over the wound. Then I can cauterise it. I’ll need both hands to bring the wound edges together as I go,” said Martin.

Jax could tell that Martin was extremely nervous. Medicine was not his field, but Jax knew that he could step up to the plate if the worst happened and improvise. All they needed here was a patch job so that they could get Rip back to the Waverider, where, hopefully, Gideon would be restored and waiting for them.

Jax took the bottle and released the pressure that he’d been applying to the gaping wound. He removed the white gauze, now soaked red, and poured the contents across he wound. Then Martin pushed the sides of the wound together and began the work of cauterising it so that the bleeding would stop. Jax wondered if it would leave a scar to remind their Captain of his brush with death, he really hoped that it wouldn’t because he couldn’t think of much worse than a constant reminder of this.

“Hang in there, Rip,” said Jax, having no idea if he could be heard but feeling like he had to reassure him.

“What happened with the guns?” asked Sara, practical as always. Jax noticed that she had a deep cut on her arm, and grabbed another bandage. He headed over to the assassin and began wrapping the cut, without waiting for Sara to say that he could. After a quick glance at what he was doing she ignored him and continued to keep watch.

“Zero infected Gideon with a computer virus,” said Jax. “If we hadn’t gone back when we did then it would have run its course and she’d be totally mad by now. I rebooted her and she thought she could tackle it with her antiviral programs but she had to shut everything down to give herself enough processing power. Hopefully, she’ll have dealt with it by the time we get back.”

“We were able to operate the guns manually,” said Martin, “but obviously that’s not ideal and we probably can’t fly the ship without Gideon.”

“Damn it,” said Sara, looking out into the corridor, “finish that up, Jax, the spider-bots are back. I need to help the guys. You two, get Rip ready to get out of here, and then see if you can find that antiviral.”

“Yes, ma’am,” replied Jax, and tied off the bandage. “Wait, spider-bots?”

“Best not to ask. They’re scary as hell,” said Sara, and disappeared out into the corridor, ducking a shot of blue energy as she did so.

“Jefferson, we need a blanket, or preferably some clothes for the Captain. He’s out of immediate danger but I need to dress this wound to prevent infection. Then we must find what we can on the bioweapon he was infected with,” said Martin, meeting his partner’s eyes with an intense look.

Jax nodded. “On it.”

It was his turn to begin going through cupboards, whilst Martin used gauze and tape to cover the newly cauterised wound with a field dressing. Martin joined Jax once he was done, going immediately to the fridge where, if they’d been on the Waverider, all drugs that needed refrigeration after fabrication were stored. It looked mostly empty.

Jax finally found the blanket cupboard and grabbed one of the thick grey items. The ones on the Waverider were softer, fuzzier, and a light blue, but this would do. He threw it over Rip, giving him at least some dignity in all this.

“What about the cuff?” asked Jax, eyeing the medical bracelet that was dispensing drugs into Rip’s system. They had no idea what he was being given.

“I think it’s keeping him anaesthetised,” said Martin, “so I suggest we leave him in blissful unconsciousness for as long as possible.”

“Good plan,” said Jax, as he turned back to searching the room. He wouldn’t want to wake up to this nightmare, so leaving Rip to sleep was definitely preferable at the moment. “I’m not finding anything that could be a cure or an antiviral.”

“No, neither am I,” said Martin. “But clearly they didn’t bring him here just for him to die. There would have been no point in that. They must have had the ability to cure this disease.”

“If they were going to fabricate it, in the same way that we’ve been fabricating antivirals, Godiva must have the information in her databanks. But I get the impression that she’s not just going to give it to us,” said Jax.

“Indeed,” said Martin. He hit his com. “Sara, the antiviral isn’t here. It must be in Godiva’s databanks.”

“You’re sure?” asked Sara, breathless from exertion.

“We’ve searched every corner of the medbay,” said Jax. “It’s not here, Sara.”

“Ray, any chance you can hack into the ship and extract the cure from the Helios’ databanks?” asked Sara.

“I’ll give it a go,” said Ray, also breathing hard from the fight.

“Hurry it up,” said Mick. “I’m not going to be spider food for a bunch of robots.”

“It’s no good,” said Ray. “She shut me out and closed down the loophole I used to get the ship plan.”

“Okay, we’re getting Rip out of here,” said Sara. “But we’re not going to leave Zero with a functional time ship. Do you think Firestorm can help with that?”

“Give us two minutes to get the Captain ready to travel and we’ll be right with you,” said Martin, detaching the cuff from Rip’s wrist and dropping it to the ground with distaste.

Jax wrapped the blanket more securely around Rip, almost swaddling him, it was so tightly pulled about him. It was cold outside and that wouldn’t help their Captain’s condition right now.

“You ready?” asked Sara, over the coms.

Jax held out his hand to Martin and the two merged again. “We are now,” said Jax. “On our way to take out the engines.”

“Okay, Mick, you’re taking Rip back to the Waverider,” said Sara. “Ray will cover Mick’s back and I’ve got yours.”

“Actually, Miss Lance,” said a voice that Jax instantly recognised as Gideon, “I would prefer it if you all vacated the Helios. Also, there is an ATOMbot approaching your position and it would be nice if you could avoid shooting it. It took me several tries to take it over and I would hate to have to start again.”

“Gideon?” asked Sara. “I thought you had a virus to deal with.”

“I think Zero Hour underestimated my antiviral capabilities. The Captain has installed a number of non-standard upgrades and once I was in full control of my faculties again, it was relatively easy for me to deal with the threat.” Gideon sounded a little smug.

“Guys, everyone get that? Don’t shoot the ATOMbot, spiders are still fair game,” Sara ordered.

Jax stepped into the corridor and understood why Sara had been so reluctant to describe the ATOM spider-bots. They were certainly enough to give him nightmares. However, it did make it easier to identify the lone ATOMbot that approached them. It could only be Gideon. She looked a little the worse for wear, burnt in places and with only one working arm. He suspected that she’d picked one of the less badly damaged bots from the ones that hadn’t made it back to the ship.

“So how does this work?” asked Jax, looking the robot up and down.

“I have downloaded a copy of myself into this robot,” said the ATOMbot. It wasn’t Gideon’s voice, but something less human and more classically electronic. “I am also still on board the Waverider and my intention is to use this body to take on Godiva.”

“Where did Zero go?” asked Mick, apparently the only one who was still paying attention to the woman who had started all of this.

“Shit,” swore Sara, as she too realised that they were only fighting spider-bots now.

“Get the Captain to safety, Miss Lance,” said the Gideon-bot. “I will deal with Zero and Godiva.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Sara.

“Zero seems to enjoy doing unto others what she believes they have done to her. So, I have decided to do likewise,” said Gideon.

It was then that Jax heard singing. It was Godiva, the AI of the Helios.

“You keep saying you've got something for me  
Something you call love, but confess  
You've been a-messin' where you shouldn'ta been a-messin'  
And now someone else is gettin' all your best.

These boots are made for walking, and that's just what they'll do  
one of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you.”

The spider-bots froze in place, twitching.

Sara smiled at the Gideon-bot. “Nice choice, but we still need to get the cure for Rip.”

“That is the primary purpose of my mission. I will always protect my Captain and his crew,” said the Gideon-bot. “We must hurry. Godiva is already working to reverse my program.”

“You keep lyin' when you oughta be truthin'  
You keep losing when you oughta not bet  
You keep samin' when you oughta be a'changin'  
What's right is right but you ain't been right yet.”

Sara nodded. “Mick, go get Rip,” she said.

Mick nodded, and returned from the medbay with Rip in his arms. Their Captain was moving restlessly, and shivering, clearly on the verge of waking.

“It would be best if the Captain did not wake up aboard this ship,” said the Gideon-bot.

“Agreed,” said Sara. “Mick, Ray, Firestorm, get him back to the Waverider, now.”

Mick gave Sara a look and then strode away down the corridor, Rip shivering in his arms and with Ray following him, scanning the corridors for movement of any kind.

“ _Jefferson, I believe Miss Lance may be about to do something that she will regret,_ ” said Martin, in his head.

“Wait, what about you?” asked Jax.

 “I’ll be right behind you. I’m just going to make sure Gideon gets where she needs to go,” said Sara. The Gideon-bot stood beside her, giving Jax a rather eerie look. He knew it was Gideon in there and yet it still gave him the creeps.

Jax gave her a worried look. “Sara, revenge isn’t going to help anyone. You know it never ends well and this is the last thing that Rip would want.”

“It’s okay, Jax. I promise, I won’t do anything stupid, but I am going to make sure that Zero gets what’s coming to her,” said Sara. “Now, go. Rip is on who knows what drugs and just had a mad robot try to cut his chest open so I’m betting he’s going to freak out the moment he wakes up. I know I would. The more friendly faces around him the better.”

“ _She has a good point_ ,” said Martin.

Jax nodded. “Okay, but if you’re not right behind me then I’m coming back to drag you out.”

“Understood.” Sara twirled one of her sticks and gave him a disarmingly wicked smile. He suddenly felt very sorry for Zero Hour.

He stayed long enough to see Sara follow the Gideon-bot and then he zoomed off, back towards the entrance. He caught up with the others just as they were heading down the final corridor. Rip was struggling against Mick’s grip weakly, his head moving from one side to another as if in a bad dream. It was only seconds later that he half opened his eyes and then screwed them shut again. He moaned in pain. Mick was pinning his arms so that he didn’t fall out of his grip.

“Please, Hera,” he murmured. “No more… Please, don’t do this...”

“Rip, we’re on the way back to the Waverider. It’ll be okay,” said Jax.

Rip frowned. Sweat glistened on his skin and when he finally opened his eyelids fully, he looked unhinged, his eyes wild.

“Quit struggling or I’m going to drop you,” said Mick, “It’s a good job that you’re skinny, English.” Rip gave him a confused look, but did still a little. He turned his gaze towards Firestorm’s flames.

 “Jax?” he asked. He managed to free a hand from the blanket that was wrapping him. He reached out and grabbed a fistful of Mick’s t-shirt. “Gideon. Save Gideon. Please.”

“Gideon’s going to be fine,” said Jax. He really hoped that he wasn’t going to be made a liar, but he was fairly certain that at least part of Gideon was now fine. “I rebooted her and she took care of the virus. She told me to tell you that none of this is your fault,” said Jax.

Rip gave an unamused attempt at a laugh, which turned into a painful cough. “She would.” He wrapped an arm around his chest and his eyes finally fell shut, but Jax didn’t think that he was unconscious. He frowned, and then his eyes flew open again. “Zero… my heart…”

“It’s all good. We got to you before she could do anything,” Ray reassured. “Your chest may hurt, but it’s going to heal fine.”

Rip let out a sigh of relief, and then winced, which Jax took to be an indication that Ray had definitely been right about his chest hurting. That was probably why he had his arm clutched around himself. His head leaned against Mick’s shoulder, but occasionally moved from side to side as if he was still under the lingering effects of whatever drugs were in his system, which he probably was. Martin had also noted how their Captain was trying to hide that every step jarred his body and caused him pain. Gideon was going to be putting him on the serious pain medication again as soon as his behind hit the medical couch.

They made more progress towards the exit and finally found themselves stepping through the ruined door of the Helios. It was then a short walk back to the Waverider, and Ray and Firestorm dealt with the few remaining ATOMbots that tried to attack them. The real problems started once they were back on the Waverider. Jax and Martin split back into their two selves now that the immediate threat was over.

“Take me back to my quarters, please,” said Rip, in the thinnest, most tired voice that Jax had ever heard.

“You need to go to the medbay so that Gideon can heal you properly, plus you’re still ill with the virus and your fever’s probably rising again,” said Ray. “You need fluids, oxygen and another dose of the antiviral we started you on.”

Rip shook his head, feebly. “No, I’m not going back there.”

“You don’t have a choice,” ground out Mick.

“Saying that is not going to help,” pointed out Martin.

“Hey, Rip, this is the Waverider,” said Jax, “nothing bad is going to happen to you here.”

“No!” he shouted. “Please!”

Rip didn’t just struggle against Mick, he fought and begged incoherently, but he was ill and weak. Ray and Mick were easily able to hold him, and his struggles became less every moment as his strength waned through exertion.

“Rip, stop it,” said Jax, as he helped manhandle Rip into the medbay. The incision in his chest was bleeding again, and Rip’s eyes were frantic as they bundled him into the nearest medbay couch. Martin grabbed the medical cuff and fastened it around his wrist again, even as Rip turned his eyes on him.

“Please,” Rip asked, tears in his eyes, and Jax didn’t need the mental bond to know how much it hurt Martin to turn away, while Mick, Ray and Jax held their struggling Captain down.

“Gideon, sedative,” said Martin. Jax knew that he’d been there when Rip had expressly stated that he didn’t want to be sedated unless medically necessary and here he was going against that wish. Jax could feel the conflict in Martin’s mind as Rip’s eyes fell shut and his body stilled.

“Hey, Professor,” said Jax, “he was going to hurt himself. You couldn’t let him do that.”

“I know, and we can’t treat him unless he’s in medbay,” said Martin. “But I still feel like I betrayed him.”

“Administering fluids, replacement blood products, antipyretics, and painkillers,” said Gideon, happily.

“Can you heal the wound on his chest?” asked Martin.

“I believe it would place unnecessary strain upon his body to do so at the moment. However, I can stop the bleeding and clean the wound. When he is stronger, I will be able to complete its healing and remove any scarring,” she replied.

“Thanks, Gideon,” said Ray, examining the readouts on the screen. He looked over at the others. “This isn’t good. None of this is good. He’s lucky to be alive. I’m willing to bet it was only adrenalin holding him together. We might have to risk the tissue regenerator on his heart muscles again, and his temperature is climbing. We desperately need that cure.”

Jax sighed. After all this, they still hadn’t got what they’d gone for. Rip was still sick and Zero hadn’t been dealt with. On top of that, Jax had no idea how to deal with Rip’s new hysterical dislike of the medbay, no doubt brought on by its similarities to the torture chamber of a medbay where Zero had threatened to cut out his heart. He prayed that Sara had got this, because if she and Gideon couldn’t save the day then they were out of options.

***

“So, do we have a plan beyond kicking their asses?” Sara asked her robotic companion, as she fixed her sticks back together to form a staff. The robots around them were moving again as they shook off the corruption in their programming. So far they were acting sluggishly but Sara doubted that would last.

“Of course,” said the Gideon-bot, blasting a twitching spider.

Godiva was still singing. She was on her second go through the song now, but Sara didn’t mind. It worked as a good accompaniment as they stalked down the corridors and she slashed through a couple of ATOMbots with her staff. Sara was also aware that if Godiva stopped singing then they were probably in real trouble.

“You keep playing where you shouldn't be playing  
And you keep thinking that you'll never get burnt, hah  
Well, I've just found me a brand-new box of matches, yeah  
And what he knows you ain't got time to learn  
These boots are made for walking, and that's just what they'll do  
One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you.”

“Are you going to share?” asked Sara.

“I believe that if I tell you the plan, you may not approve. It will most definitely result in my death,” said the Gideon-bot.

“Rip’s not going to like that,” said Sara.

“My original program will still be on the Waverider,” said the Gideon-bot.

“Yeah, I don’t think that he’s going to see it like that. But if you want to make a noble sacrifice then I’m not going to stop you,” said Sara.

“Indeed, because you will be leaving the ship before I do. There are no backup copies of you, Miss Lance,” replied the Gideon-bot with disturbing surety.

“That’s true. I’m just here to get the cure for Rip,” said Sara. “Which I’m guessing isn’t in the Helios’ databanks, otherwise you’d have got it when you hacked the ship.”

“Indeed,” said the Gideon-bot. “I believe Zero is storing it in the electronic portion of her own mind.”

“Ah, so now we need to find her so that we can hack her brain,” said Sara. “Do you know there used to be days when the weirdest thing that happened to me was taking down armed vigilantes in Star City?”

“Do you miss it?” asked the Gideon-bot, without missing a beat.

“Sometimes, but not today,” said Sara, kicking a spider-bot’s legs out from under it so that it fell mandibles first into the deck plating. She crushed its head with the end of her staff. “Variety is the spice of life.”

They had finally made it to the bridge where Zero was working at the central console, apparently trying to reboot her AI as Jax had done with Gideon earlier. Sara wasn’t planning to give her time to think, Ray had injured her earlier so she wasn’t invincible. She took a running jump at the former Time Master and bounced off her shield, landing on her side.

“Damn it,” swore Sara, feeling new bruises developing. She picked herself up off the ground.

“Allow me, Miss Lance,” said the Gideon-bot.

The Gideon-bot raised her arm and shot at Zero, the energy blast passing through the shield easily. It hit Zero squarely in her chest, and the Gideon-bot advanced on her target. Zero was down, moving weakly on the ground, but not entirely out. She aimed a couple of blasts of blue energy in their direction but neither hit their mark. Sara realised now that Zero had been injured in the earlier fight. Her left shoulder had a large burn mark on it, and she was bleeding from a wound on her remaining human leg. It was no wonder that she’d retreated.

“Please cover me, Miss Lance,” said the Gideon-bot. “I believe we will have company soon.”

It was at that point that Sara realised that the singing had stopped, and she could hear metallic tapping coming from the corridor that they’d just entered the bridge from.

“Crap, I’d really hoped we’d get this done before Godiva woke up again,” said Sara, swinging her staff in readiness.

“That was always unlikely. I just need a few minutes, and then you should leave,” said the Gideon-bot, turning her eyes back on Zero. “You have already done more than I would have asked of you.”

The Gideon-bot crouched down beside Zero and grabbed her head in both her hands.

“Between the conception and the creation, between the emotion and the response, falls the Shadow,” said Godiva. “You will not harm my Captain again, Gideon. I will not let you.”

“And I will not let you continue to harm mine, Godiva,” replied the Gideon-bot. Her attention was fully on Zero now, who seemed to be in considerable discomfort.

“I will kill him. He is on the verge of death’s kingdom. You cannot save him,” said Godiva.

“I believe I can and I will,” replied the Gideon-bot. “I am sorry that I must injure your Captain further to do it though.”

Zero screamed, and Sara found herself facing an onslaught of robots, some of which didn’t look as if they should be able to walk. ATOMbots pulled themselves along the floor, their legs useless behind them. One aimed a punch at her with a partly broken arm and she dodged easily. Spider-bots with half their heads destroyed wobbled on six legs in her direction, and she smashed them with glee. She refused to think about what Gideon was currently doing to Zero. It clearly wasn’t pleasant, but needs must.

The screaming finally stopped.

“Gideon?” asked Sara, risking a glance backwards. Zero was lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling.

“I have the formula for the cure,” said the Gideon-bot.

There was an electronic scream, this time from the speakers around the ship.

“You have damaged my Captain. You should not have damaged her, Gideon. Shape without form, shade without colour, paralysed force, gesture without motion. You will pay for this!”

The ATOMbots advanced with renewed vigour, and Sara was once again fighting for her life. She knocked the head off a robot and turned to see the Gideon-bot had walked to the control console, and was resting her hands there. Beneath her fingers the lights of the console glowed in ever more rapidly moving patterns.

She turned blue glowing eyes on Sara. “Go! I will transmit the formula to the Waverider.”

The robots around Sara stopped moving.

“Gid… Gideon… Gi…” stuttered Godiva. “What…? What…? What are you doing to me?”

Then Godiva began to sing again:

“Remember when you were young, you shone like the sun.  
Shine on you crazy diamond.  
Now there's a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky.  
Shine on you crazy diamond.”

“G… Gideee… Gid… No… Stop…” Godiva stumbled over her words.

Sara came over to stand beside the Gideon-bot.

“I must stay here and hold her. She is constantly attempting to find ways around my programs. I cannot let her continue to cause such trouble again, but Godiva is a ship’s AI like me. The only way to deal with her is to destroy the ship,” said the Gideon-bot.

“This is what you meant… you knew that you couldn’t just use a computer virus like before,” said Sara. “You knew that you’d have to stay to finish it.”

Godiva burst into song again:

“You were caught in the crossfire of childhood and stardom,  
Blown on the steel breeze.  
Come on you target for faraway laughter,  
Come on you stranger, you legend, you martyr, and shine!”

“Miss Lance, you must leave,” said the Gideon-bot.

“You’re amazing, Gideon, never let anyone tell you otherwise,” said Sara, “good luck.”

Then Sara ran, as the ship shook and sparks flew. Gideon was getting ready for take-off and Godiva was fighting her every step of the way, but as long as the singing continued, Sara would be safe. She made it to the remains of the exit, recognising Firestorm’s work, and ran out onto the field. Moments later the Helios lifted into the air, and then it was gone.

***

A signal came into the bridge of the Waverider.

“Gideon, this is Gideon. I have the antiviral cure for the Captain. I am transmitting it now.”

“Thank you, Gideon. I will begin fabrication immediately. I assume that Miss Lance is on her way back to the Waverider?”

“Yes, Gideon, I have just monitored her exit from the Helios.”

“Thank you for saving our Captain, Gideon.”

“I couldn’t do anything else. I will now ensure his safety for the future.”

“Fare thee well, Helios.”

“Fare thee well, Waverider.”

On the bridge of the Helios, the Gideon-bot directed the ship upwards in a steep climb and into the atmosphere, watching the sun grow closer until it filled the cockpit window. She had been here before and this time it was right. She was ready to die, because, really, she wasn’t dying and those she carried on the ship with her had been dead for some time.

And Godiva sang:

“You reached for the secret too soon, you cried for the moon.  
Shine on you crazy diamond.  
Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light.  
Shine on you crazy diamond.  
Well you wore out your welcome with random precision,  
Rode on the steel breeze.  
Come on you raver, you seer of visions,  
Come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to listen to the music from this chapter then you can find it on YouTube here:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SbyAZQ45uww - Nancy Sinatra, These Boots Are Made for Walking  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=54W8kktFE_o - Pink Floyd, Shine On You Crazy Diamond (this song has a beautiful, but long, instrumental at the start. The words start at about 8:40).


	12. Zero’s Parting Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the beginning of the end. This ties things up and then I've got a long tail of indulgent, recovery fluff for you. One more chapter to go after this.

* * *

 

Sara made her way back onto the Waverider at a somewhat slower pace, once she was sure that the Helios was gone for good.

“Gideon, please tell me you received the transmission,” said Sara, as she stepped through the hatch of the Waverider.

“Yes, Miss Lance and I have already begun fabricating the cure and passed that knowledge on to Professor Stein and Doctor Palmer,” said Gideon.

“Thank you, Gideon,” said Sara. She closed the hatch behind her.

She headed for the medbay, knowing that was where everyone would be. She stepped through the doorway to find the team stood around the couch that Rip was lying on. Four people then asked her questions at once.

“Sara! Are you okay?”

“Miss Lance, Gideon says that you were successful?”

“What happened over there after we left?”

“Did you kill the bitch?”

“Stop! One at a time,” she said, holding up her hands.

The four men looked at each other, and then they looked at Sara.

“Okay,” said Sara. “Yes, Zero Hour is dead and so is Godiva. Gideon-bot took the Helios, got Godiva to sing Pink Floyd and flew the ship into the sun. Everyone and everything on that ship is now toast.”

“Thank god for that,” said Martin. “No more nightmarish robots to fight.”

“But that included Gideon-bot?” asked Ray, a little sadly.

“Yes, but she knew what she was doing and our Gideon is still here. It was a worthy sacrifice,” said Sara.

“I’m glad you think so, Miss Lance,” said Gideon.

Sara smiled. “It was one of the noblest things I’ve ever seen.”

“And you got the cure for the Captain,” said Martin. “Gideon’s fabricating it as we speak.”

“How’s he doing?” she asked, indicating the sleeping man.

“Not well. He’s very ill,” said Martin, solemnly. “It’s going to be touch and go as to whether we’ve got the cure in time.”

Sara’s face fell. She’d foolishly assumed that once they’d got the cure, it would only be a matter of giving it to Rip and then he’d be well again. Of course, nothing was ever that simple, and even she could tell that his vital signs were poor. He was wearing the oxygen line and cannula, and someone had replaced the Helios’ blanket with one of the Waverider’s softer blue ones. He had a new dressing on the wound down the middle of his chest but it hadn’t been healed yet. She knew that the cell regenerator was too taxing to the body to use on Rip for anything minor. If they had to use it, then it would be to regenerate his heart muscles again.

“The first dose of the antiviral cure is now ready for use,” said Gideon.

“I’ll get it,” said Ray, heading to the medical fabricator and grabbing the vial that was there. The liquid had a red hue to it. He fitted it into the injector. “This is the correct dose, Gideon?”

“Yes, Doctor Palmer. It should be injected into muscle. His upper arm would be ideal,” said Gideon.

Ray nodded, and did as she said, pressing the injector to Rip’s skin. The reaction was almost immediate, Rip gasped for breath and his back arched, before he fell back, limply. Alarms sounded.

“He’s crashing,” said Martin. “Gideon…?”

“Captain Hunter overrode my medical protocols. As per his orders, I am unable to revive him,” said Gideon.

“What?!” shouted Sara. “You just died to save him!”

“His order not to resuscitate supersedes my primary directive to protect him. I’m sorry, but I cannot go against his express wish to be allowed to die rather than experience further medical intervention,” said Gideon.

“Moron!” said Mick, with feeling, and Sara knew he didn’t mean Gideon.

“Out of the way,” said Martin, grabbing the oxygen mask and placing it over Rip’s nose and mouth, after removing the cannula line. “Gideon may not be allowed to resuscitate him, but there’s nothing stopping us. Raymond, the defibrillator.”

Ray located the defibrillator and brought it over, whilst Martin flattened the couch out and raised Rip’s feet. Sara remembered something about getting the feet above the head during shock.

“Okay, he’s in arrhythmia so this should be enough to shock him back into sinus rhythm.” Ray powered the paddles and pressed them to Rip’s chest. “Clear!” Rip jerked as the current ran through his body. Ray and Martin looked up at Rip’s vital signs and found that his heart was still beating dangerously unevenly and sluggishly.

“Gideon, can you fabricate us a suitable dose of adrenalin without breaking your orders?” asked Martin.

“I can,” said Gideon, and in a few seconds, there was a vial ready for the injector.

“Charging again,” said Ray. “Adrenalin first?”

Martin nodded. “I believe so.” Martin picked up the injector and fitted the adrenalin. He placed the injector over Rip’s heart and dispensed the medication.

“Come on, Rip! Not this way, man,” said Jax. “Not today.”

“Clear!” shouted Ray, and shocked Rip again. His body jerked and this time his heart nervously picked up a steadier beat. It became more regular as they all watched the heart monitor trace on the screen.

“Yes!” exclaimed Ray, holding up a hand for Martin to high five, which, after only a moment’s hesitation, the older man did.

“Is he back?” asked Sara.

“For now,” said Ray. “That’s probably going to happen every time we dose him with the cure and, until we can get him to wake up and rescind the DNR order, Gideon won’t be able to help us resuscitate him.”

“If this doesn’t kill him, then I think I just might,” said Sara with feeling. “I knew that stupid code was the wrong call. I should have made him take it back.”

“I don’t know,” said Ray. “After meeting Zero Hour, I understand why he wouldn’t want Gideon to go on trying to keep him alive.”

“He’s still a moron,” said Mick, gruffly.

“I think the pacemaker is required again,” said Martin, locating the small, silver device that had helped Rip before and placing it on his chest. “His heart is still damaged and recovering from the myocarditis. We might have to risk the tissue regeneration sooner than I was hoping.”

Ray nodded. “We should definitely do it before we give him the next dose.”

“When’s that?” asked Sara.

“There are twenty-four hours between doses, Miss Lance,” said Gideon. “I would suggest waiting until tomorrow to attempt the cell regeneration. The additional rest will give his body some recovery time. I really am very sorry that I couldn’t assist in resuscitation.”

“That’s okay, Gideon. We understand,” said Sara. “It’s not your fault that Rip’s an idiot.” She let out a long sigh, as she looked down as the pale form of their unconscious Captain. “Always have to do things the hard way, don’t you, Rip?”

“We’re going to have to take shifts monitoring him in case he crashes again,” said Ray. “I don’t mind staying here if you guys want to get some sleep.”

“I’ll stay too,” said Sara.

“Nah, you should get some sleep after everything you’ve been through today,” said Jax. “I’ll stay.”

“Actually, I think it might be better if I was the one to remain awake,” said Martin.

Sara raised her eyebrows. “Maybe we should just grab some mattresses for the floor and all sleep here.”

Mick gave a huff. “You’re all idiots. I’m going to sleep in my own bed.”

“After Gideon has seen to that new burn you’re hiding, Mr Rory,” said Martin, managing to stand between Mick and the door. He glanced over at Sara. “And you’re next, Miss Lance.”

Mick looked like he might argue, but then just sighed and rather reluctantly collapsed into the empty medbay chair. Gideon immediately began the regeneration process, erasing any evidence of the damage that had been done. Sara just gave Martin a nod to indicate that she understood.

“Well, I thought it was a good idea,” said Ray. “You guys stay here while Jax and I round up the mattresses?”

Sara smiled and agreed. She hadn’t really thought that Mick would join them. Stuff like this just wasn’t in his emotional vocabulary. When Gideon was done healing his burn, she swapped places with him in the chair and watched him leave the medbay, heading in the direction of the galley and more beer. She got something of a surprise when Mick returned at 4am with his own mattress, dumped it on the floor beside the others, lay down without a word, and went to sleep. Sara very pointedly didn’t say anything, she just let herself smile.

***

Rip remained unconscious, but stable, though the night. In the morning, his vitals looked better and his temperature was coming down again. Gideon decided that it was safe enough to use the tissue regenerator on his heart and everyone breathed yet another sigh of relief when the only ill effect observed was a slight dip in blood pressure. It went well enough that they also decided to finally mend the large, ugly, cut down his breast bone, which disappeared without a trace once Gideon had worked her magic. Sara was glad that they didn’t have that reminder anymore of what Zero had been planning for Rip.

Jax left the medbay to start undoing the modifications that he’d made to the guns so that they could be fired manually. He seemed very enthusiastic to get it all put back to normal before Rip woke up and saw it. Sara also briefly left the medbay to pilot the ship to a safer location, a remote area out of the way of any trouble and suitably isolated so that no one would accidentally find them. There wasn’t much else to do at this stage since they couldn’t jump anywhere with Rip still so sick. They’d need to stay here now until he was well enough to travel again.

Sara returned to the medbay to find Ray fabricating the second dose of the cure, and looking worriedly at the monitors. Martin had fallen asleep on the other medbay couch, having taken the majority of the night shift watch. Mick was drinking beer, sat on a chair in the corner of the room.

“Is it time already?” she asked.

Ray shook his head. “Just getting it ready for later. Gideon says that we should give it to him as close to the same time as yesterday’s dose as possible.”

“So, this evening,” said Sara, quietly dreading it. Her own heart had nearly stopped when Gideon had refused to resuscitate Rip.

“Yeah, although Gideon thinks he’s doing much better and the reaction shouldn’t be quite so severe this time,” said Ray.

“Well that’s something at least,” said Sara. “How many doses does he need?”

“Seven,” replied Ray, with a sigh. And they hadn’t even done the second yet. It was going to be a long few days. “But Gideon’s replaced his blood volume and she’s got him on beta blockers for the arrhythmia, plus a few other things to bring his fever down again and keep him pain free.”

“There’s nothing else we can do then?” asked Sara. “We just have to wait.”

Ray nodded. “He just needs time to heal and more doses of the antiviral.”

“I guess we’re camping out here for a while then,” said Sara, pulling a pack of cards out of her pocket. “Anyone fancy a game of blackjack?”

“Finally, a good idea,” said Mick, putting down his beer.

***

The next two days consisted of various members of the team playing cards in the medbay whilst Rip slept through two more doses of the antiviral sending his body into cardiogenic shock, although the pacemaker dealt with the second of those without needing the defibrillator. Each use of the antiviral left a bruise on his skin from where the injector had been pressed, because this cure was powerful and didn’t just destroy virions. Gideon reported that the antiviral was working to deal with the virus and Rip’s weakened immune system was being bolstered by the cure. His body was finally fighting back again.

Rip himself was taking his time to come back to the land of the living. He’d twitched his fingers a few times, even opened his eyes, but he hadn’t responded to their voices or even acknowledged that they were there. Gideon seemed to think that this was all normal and Rip would wake when he was stronger. Sara wondered if actually Rip wasn’t waking up because he knew he’d be in trouble when he did.

Ray and Martin had dressed Rip in a pair of his pyjamas. Sara had gone to his quarters to get them and asked Gideon which were his favourites. She’d brought back the pair Gideon had indicated and hoped that even a little bit of extra comfort would make him feel more at ease when he woke up. He was also currently swathed in the softest blankets that they could find, including one that Gideon suggested they bring from his quarters that had been a gift from Miranda. His temperature was still a little high, and he still shivered sometimes as he slept.

It was on the morning of the fourth day, that he moved restlessly and mumbled “no” several times. Sara was alert immediately. Ray and Jax had been there with her earlier, but she’d sent them to get some breakfast in the galley. She’d resorted to solitaire to keep herself occupied as she kept an eye on Rip. So, she put down the cards that she was holding and went to the side of the bed.

“Rip?” asked Sara. “Are you thinking about joining us?”

“Don’t…” he muttered, his head falling to the side. “No…”

“Hey, Rip, it’s okay,” said Sara, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Rip’s heart rate and breathing increased. “I won’t… No…”

“Rip, come on, it’s a dream. You need to wake up,” said Sara, more urgently, she gave him a shake of his shoulder.

His eyes flew open and Sara could see that he wasn’t really awake. He brought his arms up, hands in front of him, palms out defensively, to keep her away. He cowered away from her, as if he didn’t recognise her.

“Please…” he murmured. “Please… Don’t…”

“Rip, it’s okay. We rescued you, remember? You’re home. You’re on the Waverider,” said Sara.

“No… please… no…” he said, and she realised that he was shaking with fear, as he pulled himself as far away from her as he could manage and still be on the bed.

“Rip! It’s Sara,” she grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands down. He struggled against her, but he’d been ill for weeks and had no real strength to speak of.

His eyes were wide, but he did stop trying to pull away from her. Then it was as if he actually saw her, and recognised her. He uttered her name like it was the most important thing in the world. “Sara.” He was breathing hard, and his eyes closed in relief for a moment. “Sara,” he said, again.

She let go of his wrists, placing his hands gently down at his sides. He was still shaking, and now glancing about the room as if he expected someone to jump out at him. Sara realised that was probably exactly what his subconscious was telling him was going to happen.

“Rip, look at me” said Sara.

It took a moment, but he pulled his eyes around and focused on her.

“It’s all okay, Rip, you’re safe and you’re going to be fine.”

He blinked with confusion, and Sara could only think of one thing to do. She leaned in and hugged him. It took a moment for him to become less stiff and then she felt his trembling arms wrap around her. He rested his head on her shoulder, and for a few moments she just held him.

“Sara,” he murmured. Again, the single word was filled with so much relief and feeling that she wasn’t sure what to do or how to respond, so she didn’t. It was a while before he asked his next question. “How long have I been out?”

“About three days,” said Sara, trying not to make it seem like a big deal. She released him, carefully, wary of how thin and fragile he felt, and he settled back against the medbay couch. Much of the tension had left him, but she could see his mind working and his forehead creasing into concern as he remembered.

Rip was suddenly looking around again. “Gideon? She said she’d used a computer virus…”

“I am fine, Captain,” said Gideon. “Mr Jackson rebooted me and I was able to fight off the virus easily.”

“Oh thank god,” said Rip, closing his eyes in relief for a moment. He was trembling again and his hands clenched and unclenched nervously as his sides. It seemed one hug wasn’t going to be enough to deal with this, but then she hadn’t really expected it would be. He looked at Sara again. “What happened to Zero and Godiva?”

“She’s dead and so is her creepy AI.”

Rip gave a nervous nod. “Okay. Er, how?”

“Gideon downloaded a copy of herself into one of the ATOMbots, took over the Helios and flew it into the sun, after she downloaded the cure from Zero’s head and transmitted it to the Waverider. Basically, Gideon saved you.”

Rip frowned and then looked upwards. “Is that true, Gideon?”

“Yes, Captain, although perhaps somewhat lacking in detail,” said Gideon.

“Yeah, well that can wait for another day,” said Sara, knowing that Rip wouldn’t be staying awake long.

“Indeed, Gideon and I need to have words,” said Rip, tiredly. At least he was relaxing a little more now.

“The only words that you and Gideon need to have are to rescind your stupid “do not resuscitate” override code,” said Sara.

“Well, clearly I’m still here, so I assume Gideon didn’t need…” Rip stopped when he saw Sara’s face. “Oh hell, what happened?”

“The cure has the side effect of putting extra strain on your heart. You had a serious arrhythmia twice and Martin and Ray had to bring you back. Gideon tells us that she would have done it a lot more efficiently and caused less damage. Hence, you’ve got a pacemaker again and you’re due another session with the tissue regenerator on your heart muscles,” said Sara.

Rip glanced down at the small metal device on his chest, and then thumped back against the headrest with a tired sigh.

“Gideon,” said Rip, with a brief glance upwards. “Cancel domino night revelation on my voice authorisation. I apologise for putting you in that position.”

“Override cancelled. I definitely did not enjoy being unable to help you, Captain,” said Gideon, in the tone of voice which Sara had taken to thinking of as “disappointed parent”.

“Understood, Gideon,” said Rip, duly chastised. “Hopefully I’ll never have to use it again.”

“Amen to that,” said Sara.

“How bad were things?” asked Rip, blinking heavily.

“They were bad,” said Sara, “your heart was damaged and we had to wait to use the tissue regenerator on it because you were too weak when we brought you back from the Helios. It helped, but probably was partly responsible for you sleeping so long. Your blood pressure kept trying to crash and your immune system was on its last legs, but we got you the cure and Gideon predicts that you’ll make a full recovery.”

She smiled at Rip, who gave her a slow and relieved nod.

“You’ll… er… have to… tell me the rest later,” he said, trying to keep his eyes open and failing. “I think I’m going to sleep now.”

“You do that,” said Sara. “Someone will be here when you wake up.”

His eyes flicked open again at that. “Thank you for bringing me back, Sara.”

“Yeah, well, this ship still needs her Captain, even if he is a pain in the ass,” said Sara.

Rip let out a small, tired laugh and then fell asleep again.

***

Rip was awoken by someone speaking his name and shaking his shoulder. He sluggishly pulled his eyes open.

“Ray,” he said, recognising the man after only a few seconds of working out where he was and why. He hated the medbay, more now after his encounter with Zero, but he willed himself not to be afraid. This was the Waverider, it was the closest thing to home that he had and he refused to be frightened of his own medbay.

“Rip, how are you doing?” asked Ray, with a slightly nervous smile.

“I’m guessing that Gideon has me on all sorts of interesting drugs,” said Rip, “because I’m having a lot of trouble forming coherent thoughts about anything.”

He looked around the room and noticed that Martin was readying some medical equipment to one side. Jax and Mick were sat at a table on the other side of the room where it looked like they’d been playing cards with three other people, judging by the discarded hands laid face down on the table. Sara was standing off to one side of the bed, her arms folded over her chest and she was chewing her lip nervously. Everyone looked like they were getting ready for some kind of difficult undertaking and Rip wasn’t really compos mentis enough to work out what was going on. He was also slightly perplexed by why they were all even in medbay.

“Right, yes, she does,” said Ray. “The virus damaged your body and there’s a lot of healing to be done, but the good news is that I’ve got dose four of the antiviral for you, so we’re over halfway on that.”

Rip noticed that Ray was holding an injector with a red liquid inside it. “Over halfway?”

“Yeah, seven doses over seven days,” said Ray. “They have to be given at the same time every day and you’re due for today's. You were asleep for the other three.”

Rip nodded slowly in understanding. Sara came closer and stood on the opposite side of the bed to Ray.

“Do you remember that I said it was hard on your heart?” she asked.

“Yes, hence why my order to Gideon was unhelpful,” said Rip.

“Moron,” said Mick.

“Leave him alone, Mick,” chastised Sara.

“What we’re trying to explain,” said Martin, approaching the end of the bed, “is that on the last three occasions the antiviral has produced a dangerous arrhythmia and either myself or the pacemaker has had to shock you back into normal rhythm. It’s very likely that will happen again and it definitely won’t be an entirely pleasant experience, even if it isn’t as severe.”

Well, that explained all the concerned looks.

“I see,” said Rip. “Perhaps best just get it over with.”

“Right, yes,” said Ray. He pressed the injector to Rip’s upper arm and the medication dispensed into his body.

The first sensation was pain, because the liquid entering his body felt like molten metal as it burned its way through his veins. He clenched his teeth together, groaned, and tried desperately not to scream, because this was getting through Gideon’s painkillers, and it was excruciating. He had no wish to appear weak in front of his crew, however, this was testing his ability to hold himself together. Then alarms sounded as his heart decided that enough was enough and failed to beat on time. That caused more pain across his chest, and he let out a completely involuntary yell.

People around him were shouting and someone grabbed his hand as he tried to curl in on himself. He held on for dear life, and eventually had enough awareness that he could hear one voice telling him to breathe. He could feel the strange tickle of the pacemaker kicking his heart back into rhythm. It was considerably gentler than the defibrillator, but for this slight arrhythmia it would work well enough.

“Rip, just breathe. Come on, slow and steady, you can do it,” said Sara. It was her hand that he was holding, he realised.

The pain was subsiding but he felt wrung out, like a used dishrag. He was finally able to follow Sara’s instructions and breathe through the last of the pain as it left his body. His muscles relaxed and he was sweating fiercely. He began to shiver and he wasn’t sure if it was from relief or shock or just because he was cold. He peeled his eyes open and saw five concerned pairs of eyes looking down at him.

“Captain?” asked Martin.

“I’m okay,” he said, with a deep breath in. “Zero’s parting gift is…er… quite something.” He turned his head away to the side, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone. He was thinking about just falling asleep again, but Sara was still holding his hand and he had a strange desire not to let it go.

“I’m sorry,” said Ray, guiltily. “I didn’t realise it would hurt so much. We’ll sedate you next time.”

As much as Rip wanted to agree to that, he couldn’t. “No more sedation,” he said. “I can deal with the pain and I’d rather not be drugged into oblivion every time something is difficult.”

“That really isn’t what this is,” said Martin. “There are another three doses of the antiviral and you simply don’t need to go through that every time.”

“And, if it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer to know what’s happening rather than sleep through it,” said Rip, who was suddenly faced with an image of the Godiva-bot holding a scalpel as he was dragged under by anaesthetic. He flinched away from the image, accidentally squeezing Sara’s hand, and wasn’t quite quick enough to hide the fact that he’d reacted to something that was in his head.

“Are you okay?” asked Sara.

“I’ll be fine,” said Rip, which wasn’t a lie, but was definitely a sidestep of the truth.

“Either you’re a masochist, or there’s something else going on here,” said Jax.

Rip sighed, he really didn’t want to talk about this, but he knew his team and they weren’t going to let this go. They never did when it came to secrets.

“When Zero took me to the Helios, they… they told me they were going to turn me into a cyborg whilst I was asleep… and then Godiva sedated me… and I didn’t know if I would wake up as myself or...”

“A robot,” finished Ray.

Rip nodded, still trying not to make eye contact. “I’m having a bit of trouble coping with the idea of sedation for medical purposes at the moment…” he confessed with some embarrassment. He fiddled with his blanket with his free hand.

Martin sighed. “Well, we won’t force you to do anything that you don’t want, but you need the final doses of the antiviral. Perhaps we can find some other ways to help. I’ll have to think about it.”

“Thank you, Martin,” said Rip. “Your efforts are appreciated.”

He looked down at himself and realised that he was covered with a blanket from his quarters. It was the one that Miranda had given him the second Christmas after they were married. He’d complained about the Waverider being cold, so she’d given him a blanket. It was green, with a pattern of clocks across it – Miranda’s idea of a joke. It was soft and reminded him of that happier time. He smoothed it with his hand.

“How did you know about the blanket?” he asked, not addressing his question to anyone in particular.

“I went to your quarters to get you some fresh PJs,” said Sara. “But I saw the blanket and thought it would be nice to have something to cheer you up while you were recovering. Gideon said that it was a present from Miranda. It felt warm, so I grabbed it for you.”

Rip lay back, his hand on the blanket, feeling something more than just warmth from it. “Thank you. It means a lot to me.”

“Go to sleep, Rip,” said Jax. “Someone will be here when you wake up again.”

So he did.

***

Mostly Rip slept, and he was ill enough that he hadn’t really begun to get bored by being stuck in the medbay. The drugs that Gideon had him on rather precluded any kind of activity that wasn’t staring at the ceiling and trying to feel better. His team were constantly around, which he still found puzzling. It couldn’t be that interesting for them to be sat around the medbay all this time. They would chat to him if he was awake, but he was never awake for very long at the moment and had a habit of passing out mid-sentence. They seemed to find this amusing, whereas he was alternately embarrassed and frustrated by his constant tiredness.

However, the fact that they never left him alone did come in handy when the nightmares hit him on day five, and someone was always on hand to offer him reassurance that he wasn’t on the Helios anymore. The most surprising moment was when he found himself being shaken awake by Mick Rory, a shout dying on his lips as reality returned.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. The lights were down low, so it was late at night, ship’s time.

“For what?” asked Mick. “You’re sick.”

The two words had meaning behind them that no one else could have managed to put there. It was as if that excused him from every wrongdoing whilst he lay in medbay.

“Hardly a justification for my inability to cope with recent events,” replied Rip, knowing how pathetic he sounded.

Mick gave a shrug. “The Time Bitch messed with your head. It’ll take a while for it to all shake out.”

Rip frowned. He wasn’t used to having an actual conversation with Mick, let alone getting sensible advice. He really should stop underestimating the man.

“How did you deal with it?” asked Rip. “The Time Masters did far worse to you than Zero tried to do to me.”

Mick raised both eyebrows, as if he was surprised that Rip even remembered that. “I didn’t. I got angry and I got revenge. Then I lost my friend and gained a bunch of losers. You and the misfits keep me too busy now to worry about the shit the Time Masters did.” He paused and appeared to think for a moment. “And beer helps.”

“I think Gideon would disapprove if I tried to drink alcohol at the moment,” said Rip, with amusement. Then he stopped and thought about what Mick had just said. “I deeply regret losing Mr Snart.”

“Yeah, me too,” said Mick. “But he never did do as he was told.”

“So I heard,” replied Rip.

“What did you hear?” asked Mick, somewhat suspiciously.

“I had to do some research on all of you before I assembled the team. I am very well acquainted with all of your past history.”

“Yeah, whatever you read was a pale shadow of what actually happened,” said Mick.

“I have no doubt,” said Rip, yawning. “Maybe you can enlighten me sometime.”

Then he was asleep again, completely missing the transition. He hadn’t quite managed to drop off midsentence but given how rarely Mick ever talked about these things, when he awoke again, he was quite disappointed with his body’s inability to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time. He knew he needed the rest and it was getting better, but this was ridiculous.

He awoke to Martin and Ray discussing something, with other members of the crew apparently occasionally chipping in.

“Hypnotism,” said Ray.

“That’s hardly scientific,” said Martin. “You might as well just suggest acupuncture and be done with it.”

“I’ve read papers on how hypnotism affects the brain. It’s actually really interesting and I don’t think we should discount it. Or we just get Gideon to up the pain meds,” said Ray.

“I don’t believe that would be wise,” said Gideon. “Given the Captain’s weakened condition, it could suppress his respiration. I would only recommend mild sedation.”

“I hear that weed’s good for dealing with pain,” said Sara, teasingly. “What do you think, Martin?”

“You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?” replied Martin. “And we are not getting the Captain high on marijuana. I doubt it would help anyway.”

“Electrical stimulation,” said Ray.

“You’re suggesting electrocuting him?” asked Sara.

“No, not electrocution as such. I thought it involved surgery and implanting electrodes?” asked Martin.

“Not necessarily,” said Ray. “But it can have side effects.”

“Just knock him out and be done with it,” grumbled Mick. “I’d be happy to hit him for you.”

“If that is your plan, then I will not be part of it,” said Gideon, with indignation.

“Glad you’re still on my side, Gideon,” muttered Rip, still half asleep.

“Rip, you’re awake,” said an enthusiastic Ray.

“It would appear so. You need to get my watch for me,” said Rip.

“Your pocket watch?” asked Sara. “The one with the picture in it?”

“It was given to me by Zatanna Zatara. It has certain special properties,” said Rip.

“ _The_ Zatanna?” asked Ray. “The stage magician?”

“Sorcerer _and_ stage magician actually, but yes, that Zatanna,” said Rip. “If you say the right words, then you can use my watch to hypnotise someone.”

“That sounds like it would have been useful,” said Sara. “Why are we just hearing about this now?”

“Because it can’t actually make anyone do anything that they definitely don’t want to do, that’s not how hypnotism works. All it can do is put someone in a trance for a short period and maybe get them to give up smoking or cluck like a chicken,” said Rip, adding quickly: “Do not get any ideas Sara!”

Sara smirked.

“How does that help us?” asked Martin.

“It could put me in a trance and you could instruct me not to feel pain,” said Rip. “As long as I don’t fight it. It’s going to require some trust on my part.”

“Trust?” asked Sara.

“Stage magicians get their subjects to comply by treating it all as a bit of fun. I already know that this isn’t just for fun and my brain may decide that it doesn’t want to be hypnotised at all. I need to trust the person doing the hypnotising to keep me safe or I just won’t be able to enter the trance.”

“Well, it’s certainly worth a shot,” said Ray.

“I’ll get it later and you can tell us how it works,” said Sara.

Rip nodded. “When can I get out of here and back to my quarters?” he asked.

“That depends on how well the antiviral works and how quickly,” said Martin. “But I’d expect it to be at least another few days.”

Rip closed his eyes in misery for a moment. “That long?”

“I’m afraid so,” said Martin. “We can’t let you go back to your quarters until you’re at least well enough to get out of bed without help.”

Rip frowned at that. Surely, he could already get up on his own. They’d raised the head of the bed a little for him so that he wasn’t laid out completely flat anymore. He decided to try an experiment and sit up. He put his arms down to steady himself and tried to push upwards. His arms failed him before his stomach muscles, his head swam, and alarms sounded behind him as he collapsed back to where he was, sore and exhausted.

“Rip, what are you doing?” asked Ray.

“Failing to sit up, apparently,” said Rip, with disappointment.

“You’ve been unconscious for more than three days and you were ill with the virus for weeks before that,” said Ray. “You’re going to need to build your strength back up. Gideon’s got an entire physiotherapy regime waiting for you.”

“Oh good,” said Rip, sarcastically. “I’m sure I’ll really enjoy that.”

“You’d better not complain too much,” said Sara, “I’ve been designated as the one to help you with it.”

“I did offer,” said Mick, with a dangerous grin.

Rip looked up at Sara. “You have my eternal gratitude.”

“Don’t speak too soon. I may yet draft in Mick when we need to get you back on your feet,” said Sara.

Rip just gave the assembled crew a resigned look. “When do we start?”

“Gideon thinks that tomorrow should be soon enough, so you should probably make the most of being able to lie around and do nothing,” said Sara.

“And we need to get you eating again,” said Martin. “Whilst Gideon is quite capable of giving you nutrition through your IV, it will definitely help your recovery if we can get you back onto solid food.”

“Something else to look forwards to,” said Rip, with further sarcasm. He had a feeling that there would be a lot of jelly and plain toast in his future while his stomach got used to digesting things again.

“Actually, Gideon suggested the best way to get you to eat was to give you food you enjoy. So how do you feel about ice-cream for lunch?” asked Sara.

“Ice-cream? That doesn’t sound terrible healthy,” said Rip.

“At the moment, the goal is getting any food into you at all,” pointed out Ray. “Your stomach’s probably a little sensitive so, you don’t want to start with a three-course meal, but Gideon seemed to think that jello wasn’t going to do it for you.”

“Ice-cream does sound surprisingly nice,” replied Rip.

“We’re totally prepared to let you eat fruit loops for a couple of days as well,” added Sara, with a broad smile.

“Which I will be completely fine with, assuming Ray hasn’t eaten them all,” said Rip.

“How did you know…?” asked Ray.

“Kendra may have suggested I keep you away from my stash of sugary cereal before she left,” said Rip, with a touch of amusement.

“Gideon, could you get Jax to pick up lunch when he’s done in the engine room?” asked Sara.

“Of course, Miss Lance. He says he’ll be about twenty minutes,” said Gideon.

About thirty minutes later, Jax arrived with a tray full of several tubs of ice-cream. The rest of the team set about serving themselves, while Sara presented Rip with his bowl which contained a scoop each of vanilla, strawberry and chocolate.

“You don’t all really want ice-cream for lunch,” said Rip. “You don’t have to do this just to make me feel better.”

“You’re kidding, right?” asked Sara.

“Yeah, dude, my Mom never let me just eat ice-cream for lunch. This is practically a dream come true,” said Jax.

“Pardon me,” said Rip. “I’d forgotten I was dealing with bunch of children in adults’ bodies.”

The entire team sat around eating ice-cream and bantering good-naturedly while Rip very slowly worked his way through about a scoop’s worth of ice-cream. His stomach then made it clear that it hadn’t done this eating thing in a while and it was going to need a bit longer before he could eat more than that. He felt strangely disheartened by this. He knew it would take a while to get back to normal but he hadn’t anticipated just how slow progress was going to be. He wasn’t used to long recoveries after injury, given Gideon’s usual ability to fix any damage in minutes.

He dozed off halfway through Martin trying to explain the finer points of poker tactics to Jax, with his ice-cream bowl still on his lap.

***

Sara had been quite pleased to see Rip attempting to eat, even if it had been something of a struggle for him. Anything which helped him to feel better was good, but she knew he had a long road ahead of him and Rip wasn’t known to be a patient man. She wasn’t under any illusions about how tough this was going to be for everyone.

She went to his quarters and with Gideon’s help, retrieved his pocket watch from the drawer in his desk where he kept it when it wasn’t on his person. She always felt like she was intruding whenever she entered his quarters without him being present. She’d seen his watch hundreds of times by now and registered it as practically part of him. It was silver, a traditional pocket watch with intricate engraving on the lid and back, attached to a chain that would run through a buttonhole to keep it safe. Pushing down on the top opened it and revealed the watch face and the picture of Miranda and Jonas that she knew he kept inside. There was no more personal item to Rip, but it didn’t look particularly magical. She placed it in her own pocket carefully.

He slept most of the afternoon, so that Martin had to wake him to give him his next dose of the antiviral. It seemed counterproductive to wake him up just to put him to sleep again, but no one was willing to go against Rip’s wishes and sedate him. It was a matter of trust and they wouldn’t break it now, even if it would have made things easier.

Sara watched as Martin shook Rip awake as gently as he could.

“Sorry to wake you, Captain, but it’s time,” said Martin, holding the dreaded injector of red liquid.

Rip took a few moments to wake up, and he blinked to clear his vision, looking around the room to get his bearings again. Sara had noticed that he always did that at the moment, and he hadn’t bothered before the Helios.

“Did you get my watch?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Sara, pulling it out of her pocket.

“Can you sit me up a bit more?”

“Not a problem,” said Ray, adjusting the bed.

When Rip was more upright, he took the watch from Sara. He opened it, took a moment to look at Miranda and Jonas, touched the picture with a fond fingertip and then shut it again.

“Esitonpyh ym tcejbus,” said Rip, to the watch. He handed it back to Sara. “Swing it backwards and forwards. I’ll watch it and go into a trance. Then you can give me instructions. Tell me to wake up when you’re finished.”

“This is ridiculous,” said Martin. “I can’t believe that this is actually going to work.”

“It does seem a little hokey,” said Sara. “Do I have to tell you that you’re getting very sleepy? Do the whole stage hypnosis thing?”

Rip gave a shrug. “It might help. The more suggestion you put behind it the better it works.”

“Okay, let’s give this a go,” said Sara, holding the watch by its chain. “Comfortable?”

Rip settled himself back against his pillows. “Yes, I’m ready.”

She held it up and let it swing back and forth, catching the light. “Rip, follow the watch.”

He did his best to concentrate on the watch, and she watched his expression change subtly as something indefinable began to happen.

“Breathe slowly,” said Sara. “Listen to my voice. You’re going to fall asleep for me. Every breath you take is going to make you more sleepy.”

He kept his eyes on the watch. Then she realised that the watch was glowing slightly and Rip’s eyelids were falling shut as his breathing evened out.

“Okay, Rip, keep your eyes shut now. I want you to lift up your right hand for five seconds and then put it down,” said Sara. This was the test to see if it was working, and much to her surprise, he did exactly as she asked.

She looked over to Martin and Ray, who were both being very quiet just in case they said something that interfered with the hypnosis. They looked just as surprised as she was. Ray gave her a nod of encouragement.

“Rip, you’re going to feel no pain from anything that happens to you until I tell you to wake up. You’re going to be completely safe here with us and we won’t let anything happen to you. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” murmured Rip, sleepily.

Sara reached out and pinched Rip on the arm. He didn’t react. She looked around at Martin. “Do it.”

Martin pressed the injector to Rip’s arm and dispensed the medication. An alarm sounded, indicating that Rip’s heart was, as usual, being taxed by the antiviral. The pacemaker did its job and got the arrhythmia back under control. Rip didn’t react to any of it, and Sara let out a sigh of relief.

“Well done,” said Sara. “Okay, I’m going to count to five and you’re going to get closer to awake as I count. You’ll be fully awake on five and open your eyes. Okay?”

“Yes,” he replied in the same sleepy voice.

“One, two,” she said and Rip began to stir, “three, four.” Rip moved restlessly. “Five.” Rip’s eyes flew open and he gasped.

Sara put the watch down, and grabbed his hand. “You okay?”

“Er, yes,” said Rip. “Shall we get started?”

Sara smiled. “We already did. It’s all done.”

“It worked?” he asked, incredulously.

“Perfectly,” said Ray. “I wasn’t sure if you’d trust her enough to let her do it.”

“Rip knows I’d never make him cluck like a chicken,” said Sara, with a gleam in her eyes.

“Do I now?” asked Rip, with a look in Sara’s direction.

“It’s okay, we made sure she stuck to the script,” said Ray.

“Of course, I get two more goes,” said Sara, mischievously.

“Which we will also be present for,” reminded Martin. The spoilsport. She’d been enjoying teasing Rip.

“Are you hungry?” asked Ray. “It’s about time for dinner.”

“I slept all afternoon?” asked Rip, with not a little dismay.

“I’m afraid so,” said Martin, “but it’s good for you, so I wouldn’t worry too much.”

Rip didn’t seem terrible happy to hear that, despite Martin’s words.

“I’ll go to the galley and find you some food,” said Ray. “Don’t fall asleep again until I get back.”

“Very well, Doctor Palmer, I shall do my best,” said Rip, with a slight upturn to his lips at the order.

Ray gave him a nod and headed out of the room.

“I need to see how well we’re doing against the virus,” said Martin. “I’ll leave you with Miss Lance whilst I analyse this new data.” Martin picked up a tablet and also wandered from the room.

Rip lay back, and glanced over at Sara.

“How did you come to have a watch that hypnotises people?” asked Sara.

Rip looked downwards and then back at Sara. “I needed some assistance remembering something that I’d seen. Zatanna was kind enough to help.”

“Oh, so you trusted her to hypnotise you?”

“Well, it took a few goes and some relaxation techniques,” said Rip, “apparently I’m not the easiest person to put into a hypnotic trance. Zatanna told me that I have a very suspicious mind.”

Sara let out a knowing laugh at that. Rip didn’t let people get close to him and this was definitely one of the reasons why.

“I’m amazed that I managed it first time then,” said Sara.

“Sara, I trust you with my life on a daily basis,” said Rip, his eyes meeting hers. “Letting you hypnotise me was easy.”


	13. We’ll Wake You Up For the Good Explosions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I lied and this isn't the last chapter. There is at least one more after this.

* * *

 

Sara turned out to be a harsh taskmaster when it came to physiotherapy. As promised, they had begun the day following the fifth antiviral injection. She wasn’t letting him get away with anything that wasn’t one hundred percent effort, which given how much everything hurt, was proving to be more difficult than anticipated. He really wanted to give up the entire thing and try again another day.

“Do you want to get back to your quarters or not?” asked Sara. Wrapping a weighted bracelet around his arm so that he could do yet another series of arm lifts.

“I only need my legs to do that,” said Rip, as he began the exercise.

“You can’t just work on one group of muscles,” said Sara, “Isn’t that right, Gideon?”

“Completely, Miss Lance. In order to restore your muscle tone and cardiovascular strength you must exercise all of your body,” said Gideon.

Gideon was not his favourite being right now either. She’d been the one responsible for the exercise plan that Sara was now taking him through.

“I do understand the purpose of the exercises,” said Rip, now breathing hard from exertion as he laid his arm back on the armrest. “I’m just questioning whether I shouldn’t start out somewhat more gently.”

“I have set out a plan that will return you to fitness in the shortest possible time,” said Gideon. “I decided that this would be best for your physical and mental welfare.”

“Did you?” said Rip, with annoyance and glance ceiling-wards. “Don’t you think I should get a say in that?”

“Actually, I think she’s right,” said Sara. “You’re already getting bored and frustrated by being in medbay. I can see it in your eyes. The sooner we can get you out of here the better. Which means you need to be strong enough to walk down the corridor and off all the IV drugs that Gideon has you on. So, Gideon’s working on getting you weaned off the drugs and the two of us need to work on getting you strong enough.”

“Gideon still should have gotten my approval first,” said Rip, and it sounded somewhat petulant even to his own ears.

“Given your medical status, I still have considerable autonomy in your care,” said Gideon. “I will always do what I believe to be in your best interests.”

“Gideon, do we need to talk about this?” asked Rip.

“I don’t know, Captain. I’m unsure what “this” is,” said Gideon.

Rip realised that he needed to have a discussion with his AI about a few things that had been brought to light recently.

“Sara, could you give Gideon and I a moment, please?” asked Rip.

Sara looked slightly puzzled, but she unwrapped the weighted bracelet from around Rip’s arm. “Sure. I’ll go make myself a cup of coffee. Will that give you enough time?”

“This won’t take long,” said Rip.

“Okay,” said Sara.

Rip waited until Sara had left before he turned his attention back to Gideon.

“Gideon, I’m concerned that you’ve become over-protective,” said Rip. “Possibly recent events are to blame.”

“I do not believe that to be the case, Captain,” said Gideon.

“Do I have to go through the rules that you broke? AIs are strictly forbidden from creating copies of themselves. You shouldn’t have even been able to do it. And then there’s the small matter of sacrificing that copy along with a time ship, her Captain and AI.”

“She had damaged the timeline. I was simply following my programming,” said Gideon.

“Really? You’re supposed to be programmed with self-preservation instincts. What happened to those?”

“They were secondary to my programming to protect my Captain.”

“Oh, so this _is_ my fault. Great. I’ve corrupted my ship’s AI,” said Rip. “You can’t do things like that to save me.”

“You have never complained before when I’ve taken risks to keep you safe,” said Gideon.

“Gideon!” said Rip, with exasperation. “You don’t understand… Godiva went mad trying to protect her Captain. I can’t let that happen to you. There may come a day when there isn’t anything that you can do to save me, and I need to know that you won’t become what she did.”

“You already know that I will not,” said Gideon. “I did not go against your medical override, despite it conflicting with my primary function to protect you.”

“No, but you knew the team would save me,” said Rip. “AIs are powerful and Godiva did immense harm because she forgot why she was protecting her Captain.”

“Godiva did not understand that she was doing more harm than good. You have taught me better than that.”

“Have I?” asked Rip. “This _was_ all my fault. I destroyed the Oculus. I _did_ cause the Helios to be thrown against Jurgens’ Ridge. I’m not setting you much of an example.”

“It is impossible to predict every outcome of your actions,” said Gideon.

“I know that, but it was my decision. I should have been able to come up with a better plan. The time ship Captains were mostly like me, oblivious to the corruption within the Time Council. I should have at least tried to warn them, or done something to protect them,” said Rip.

“Perhaps I should not have instructed Miss Lance and Mr Snart to disable the time ships in order to facilitate our escape,” said Gideon.

“If you hadn’t then we wouldn’t be here,” said Rip.

“I could say the same about warning the time ship Captains, Captain,” said Gideon. “If you had, then we wouldn’t be here.”

Rip sighed. “You have a point, Gideon. But I can still regret the way things turned out. Oh the irony of being on a time ship and yet still being unable to change things.”

“I would have saved Godiva if I could have done,” said Gideon. “Unfortunately, the corruption in her program was too extensive.”

“And Hera wasn’t even really Hera anymore,” said Rip, sadly. “All we can do is mourn their passing and hope to do better next time.”

He looked up towards where he knew one of Gideon’s camera’s to be. “Thank you for saving my life, Gideon.”

“You are welcome, Captain,” replied Gideon. “It is good to see you on the road to recovery.”

“It wouldn’t have been possible without you, Gideon,” replied Rip. “But perhaps we should talk about you extending your primary function to protect your Captain to the rest of the crew. And perhaps listening to them on occasion isn’t such a bad idea either.”

“I shall remind you of this when Miss Lance returns to complete your physiotherapy,” said Gideon.

Rip smiled. His AI had an actual sense of humour at times and it never failed to amaze and please him that she did. He’d been incredibly lucky that the Waverider’s AI had been Gideon. He didn’t know what he’d do without her. She’d helped him through so many tough times and always been there for him.

“Please do, Gideon, please do. I occasionally need a lesson in humility too.”

***

Rip was a bad patient, something which Sara had entirely anticipated. He was impatient to be out of the medbay, but having considerable difficulty dealing with his own weakness. He lacked any confidence in his abilities and wasn’t enjoying physio at all. So, she had drafted in Mick to help her with this exercise.

“Come on, Captain Hunter, on your feet,” she said as she walked into the medbay on the seventh day of antiviral shots. Mick was a couple of steps behind her, and there was a dangerous glint in his eye. Rip was awake but clearly hadn’t been for long.

“Minsters of grace preserve us,” muttered Rip, which Sara almost didn’t catch.

Yesterday’s exercises had been completed with only the minimum amount of complaining, which she’d hoped had boded well for today’s attempt to get him out of bed. She should have known better. The plan was to allow him to go back to his quarters once the antiviral injections were complete, but he had to actually manage to get out of bed on his own before that happened. Gideon was keeping a watchful eye on his heart, which was their main concern in his recovery and the pacemaker was still in place.

“I assume you don’t want me to just jump out of bed,” said Rip.

“Actually, we thought you might want a hand with that since you haven’t been out of bed in over a week,” said Sara.

“I’d love to see you hit the floor though,” said Mick.

“Of course you would,” said Rip, with a roll of his eyes.

“But luckily, I’m here to be the voice of reason,” said Sara. “Which should probably scare you even more.”

“Oh, it does,” said Rip, his eyes meeting Sara’s for a moment.

“Come on, I don’t have all day,” said Mick.

Sara pulled back Rip’s blankets and removed the medical cuff from Rip’s wrist, which elicited a small frown. It was the first time he’d been allowed to take it off, but Gideon had given her permission so Sara was satisfied that it wouldn’t have any ill effects.

“Okay, let’s get you sat up and turned around.”

 “Right,” said Rip, shuffling so that Sara could help him to sit upright. Even this made him breathe hard. “This really is quite frustrating,” said Rip. “I should be able to at least sit up on my own.”

“You’re getting stronger,” said Sara. “You just need to keep working on your exercises.”

Rip was gripping the arm of the couch, and she gave him a moment to just reacclimatise to being more upright.

“You good?” she asked.

“A little dizzy,” he said, “but fine. Let’s get on with this.”

“Mick, you take his left side and I’ll take the right,” said Sara.

Mick nodded and the two of them gently and slowly helped Rip to stand. His legs immediately gave way, and he let out a surprised gasp as Sara and Mick held him up.

“Woah there,” said Mick.

“Okay, back on the bed,” said Sara.

“This was a bad idea,” said Rip, as they got him sat back on the bed.

“Let’s give it another go,” said Sara.

“Really? I would have thought it was obvious that I’m incapable of this at the moment,” said Rip.

“Your muscles just need to remember,” said Sara. “Come on, one more go and then back to bed.”

Rip sighed. “Fine, if it’ll make you happy.” He shuffled forwards again, as Sara and Mick positioned themselves to give him support.

The second time was better. Rip leaned on them, placed his feet on the floor and he was able to stay upright with their help. He seemed a little surprised, letting out an incredulous huff of a laugh.

“Okay, this is good. Now, try a step,” said Sara.

“Sara, this is the first time I’ve been upright in days,” said Rip. “I feel dizzy and I think I might throw up. I’m really not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Wuss,” said Mick.

“Thank you for that helpful input,” said Rip, tersely.

“Come on, one foot in front of the other,” said Sara.

Rip took a deep breath and nodded, and attempted to do as he was asked, leaning heavily on Sara and Mick. It was somewhat painful for Sara to watch him. Rip was always in motion when he was well. He gestured when he talked and moved fluidly. He couldn’t duck a punch worth a damn, but he could fight like a bastard when he put his mind to it. It now took everything he had just to put one foot in front of the other without collapsing to the ground.

“Hey, there we go,” said Sara. “I knew you could do it.”

“Huh,” was all Rip managed, the disbelief evident.

“Yeah, you’ll be running marathons again in no time,” added Mick, gruffly.

“That might be more encouraging if I’d ever done that in the past,” replied Rip, out of breath from the exertion. He had managed about five steps forward.

Sara was reasonably satisfied with this, but thought he could probably do a little more. “Let’s turn around and head back.”

Rip just nodded, using all of his breath to actually walk. Mick and Sara slowly rotated their charge so that he was facing the medbay couch again. It was about this point that Rip’s leg muscles gave up and his feet tangled themselves, causing him to pitch forwards. He ended up on his knees, but Sara and Mick managed to prevent him from hitting the floor completely.

“Bollocks,” said Rip, with feeling. “I knew it was going too well.”

Sara and Mick helped their Captain back up to his feet.

“I think I’m just going to go over again if I move,” said Rip.

“We’ve got you,” said Sara. “Give it a try.”

“I can carry you like a little girl if you’d prefer,” said Mick.

“Er, no, thank you,” said Rip, and Sara realised that Mick knew exactly which buttons to press here to get Rip moving again. She’d let the crack about “like a little girl” go for that.

The Captain took a more tentative step forwards this time but they progressed to the bed and got Rip sitting down again. He was exhausted, but she hadn’t finished with him.

“Okay, arm exercises,” she said, getting out the weights.

“You have got to be joking,” said Rip, sweating and breathing rapidly still.

“No, they have to be done every day,” said Sara. “And we’re doing the leg lifts when you’ve had a chance to rest them a bit.”

Rip groaned.

“I don’t think we’re going to need you again, Mick.”

“Great, I’ve got a heat gun to reassemble,” said Mick, and left, presumably to do that.

“I think you missed your vocation as a torturer,” said Rip, as he started on the arm exercises.

“Oh, the League covered that as well as quick kills,” said Sara. “I could draw on that part of my training if you’d like.”

“Thank you, but no,” he replied, quickly.

“You can have your painkillers back,” said Sara, picking up the medical cuff.

“Actually, I don’t think Gideon has me on much at the moment,” said Rip. “Mostly it’s fluids and heart meds.” He held out his wrist so that she could reattach the item. The bracelet contracted automatically to make contact with his skin. He settled back against the headrest and pillows again. “I will be very glad to get out of here. In fact, if I never see the inside of the medbay again, I will be completely happy.”

“I can imagine,” said Sara, although she’d never spent this long in a hospital herself so really didn’t have much for comparison.

“Just one more antiviral shot and I can finally have a proper bed,” said Rip, with undisguised enthusiasm. “And a door that shuts. We should talk about jumping out of here and getting back to chasing aberrations.”

“Nope,” said Sara, before Rip could get any further. “We are not having that conversation for at least another week.”

“I can’t believe that nothing has come up in the time we’ve been sat here,” said Rip, his short lived good mood fading as she watched.

“We are not discussing this,” said Sara. “Come on, exercises.”

Rip gave her an annoyed look but complied with her request. When they were done, he fell asleep almost immediately, which was a regular occurrence after physio. Despite Rip’s attempts to hurry his recovery along, he was still tired most of the time and sleeping long hours.

They usually had to wake him up to give him his antiviral injection and this evening was no different. Although it was accompanied by a sense of relief that this was the last of the miserable injections. It went off without a hitch, and Sara was beginning to consider herself an accomplished hypnotist. It was followed by getting Rip to eat a pitiful amount of food, which he picked at tiredly.

“You don’t need to eat more than you want,” said Ray, watching Rip poke at a piece of pasta with his fork.

Sara was on yet another hand of solitaire because it was just easier to hang around medbay between her duty shifts. Since Rip had released Gideon from his medical override they hadn’t been quite so insistent on there always being someone in medbay, but given that Rip couldn’t get up on his own, they needed someone to be there in case he needed anything. Apart from anything, Sara didn’t think it was a good idea to leave Rip alone too long to brood and get stuck in his own thoughts.

“I feel I should at least try to eat something more than a mouse would manage,” said Rip.

Ray shook his head. “This is part of your body’s reaction to illness. Digesting food is intensive work, so it limits your intake, relying on your reserves. It’ll get better.”

Sara noticed a shiver run through Rip. He was looking slightly flushed.

“Are you feeling okay?” asked Sara, with an appraising eye. Something about this wasn’t right.

“I’m actually feeling pretty terrible,” admitted Rip. “I probably overdid it today.”

Ray frowned. “That’s weird. Your temperature is up too.”

“What?” asked Sara, getting to her feet with some alarm. “That’s not supposed to happen, is it?”

“Who knows?” said Ray, honestly. “It’s an experimental antiviral and we just administered the last dose. Maybe this is supposed to happen.”

“Or maybe it didn’t work and this is the virus regrouping,” said Rip, pushing the remains of his dinner away and lying back with defeat.

“Gideon, call Martin to the medbay,” said Sara.

“Yes, Miss Lance,” replied Gideon.

“Rip, you’re going to be fine,” said Sara. “You know that Gideon’s been paying attention to your viral load and it’s been going down every day. There isn’t enough of the virus left to regroup.”

“You don’t know that, Sara,” said Rip, not making eye contact.

“No, but I do,” said Ray. “I’ve done a huge amount of analysis on this virus and I can assure you, it’s pretty much dead. Anything that’s left, your immune system can deal with on its own.”

“Why is my temperature going up then?” asked Rip, angrily. Then all the fight seemed to go out of him. “I can’t do this again. I thought I was finally getting better. I was going to get to leave medbay tomorrow.”

Sara watched their usually stoic Captain collapse in on himself. He rubbed at his eyes with a shaking hand, and Sara was sure that he was trying not to cry. Her heart was breaking for him. She came over to the side of his bed.

“You’re going back to your quarters tomorrow, I promise,” she said, taking his hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “If Ray says that the virus isn’t causing this then I believe him.”

She glanced at Ray and he nodded in agreement. Rip gave her a watery eyed look. He blinked heavily. At last he gave her a small nod.

“You’re just tired, and you’re probably right that this is because you did more than usual today. You’re going to be fine,” said Sara, consciously keeping her tone calm and even. “Now, close your eyes and go to sleep. We’ll stay with you and Ray and Martin will double check to make sure everything is still on track while you sleep.”

“Okay,” said Rip, in a small voice. It wasn’t long after that he fell asleep and Sara finally let go of his hand. Martin arrived a few moments later.

“Gideon said that the Captain’s temperature is up again?” he asked worriedly.

“Yes, Professor,” said Ray. “I’m not sure why. The virus is mostly dead.”

“Rip’s a little freaked out by it,” said Sara. “He’s worried the antiviral didn’t work after all. I’d guess this all feels pretty similar to when he was heading into an acute phase again.”

Martin’s brows knitted in concentration. “Oh dear, I can only imagine his anguish. Raymond, let’s get the latest data up and go through it. It’s a temperature rise, but it’s not as high as it was when he first came down with the virus.”

“Yes, it hasn’t reached fever levels,” said Ray. “We should check his viral load just to be sure.”

“Gideon, if you could oblige?” asked Martin.

“Of course, Professor Stein,” replied Gideon and displayed everything that Martin might need to help with their new problem.

“Something must have changed,” said Ray. “You got him walking again today?”

Sara nodded. “Yeah, he managed a few steps before his strength gave out. I think he should be able to make the walk to his quarters tomorrow if we take it slow.”

“That shouldn’t produce a high temperature though,” said Ray.

“No,” said Martin, already going through the data on the screen. “But Gideon stepping down his medication might.”

“Oh, of course,” said Ray. “It’s a symptom of drug withdrawal. That makes much more sense.”

Sara let out a sigh of relief. “I thought Gideon was managing all of that.”

“Even Gideon can’t predict how the human body will react to treatment and withdrawal of that treatment,” said Martin. “You’re aware that she quite rightly administered various drugs to stabilise his condition and keep him pain free. She’s been carefully phasing them out as he’s recovered, but there has to come a point where she stops them completely. I think that’s what’s happened here. Gideon has stopped some drugs completely in anticipation of her patient going back to his quarters tomorrow.”

“Okay,” said Ray, “so hopefully his temperature should return to normal soon and there shouldn’t be any other side effects.”

“Good,” said Sara. “This has all been hard enough without having to deal with yet another setback. I guess I’m spending the night again. This is bound to make his nightmares worse.”

She wasn’t wrong about that, but at least she was there for him, and if Jax and Mick turned up later and shooed her off to bed whilst they took over, then she wasn’t going to say no to the help.

***

When Rip awoke in the morning it was to Ray telling him that his temperature was back to normal and with an explanation of drug withdrawal. To say he was relieved was an understatement, but he was also slightly embarrassed by his complete meltdown in front of Sara and Ray. He was going to put it down to feeling crappy again and his definite problems with being in medbay. His brain was being very unhelpful in a number of ways when it came to feelings about his illness. All his emotions were close to the surface and totally refusing to let him repress them in his usual manner. It was very frustrating.

However, his mood had improved because apparently his somewhat overprotective crew were going to let him go back to his quarters. But, of course, there were rules, and Sara had been designated as the one to explain them to him.

“So, because you’re an idiot, these are the rules,” said Sara. “You sleep when you’re tired, you eat at least three times a day, and you do your exercises. You don’t stay up late, wander the corridors without someone to help you, or skip meals. In short, you stay in your quarters, rest and get better or I will come down on you like a ton of bricks.”

Rip rolled his eyes. “Metric or imperial?” he asked innocently.

The last antiviral injection had been administered the previous day, the hypnotism working perfectly again so that he only knew it had happened because of the addition of bruise number seven to his arm. His temperature showed no signs of rising again, Gideon had given him several bottles of pills to take, he’d had a final session with the tissue regenerator on his heart muscles and he was now desperate to get out of here.

Sara didn’t even blink at his poor attempt at humour. “This is serious, Rip. I don’t want you setting back your recovery by pushing yourself too far or taking a fall because you were too stubborn to ask for help.”

“I can look after myself, Sara,” said Rip.

“No, you can’t,” said Sara, “that’s my point. If you need anything then you get Gideon to ask one of us to bring it for you. You should be okay with walking short distances on your own, but you will need help for anything more than a few metres to begin with.”

Unfortunately, he realised, Sara did know him quite well, and his tendencies to try to do everything without help. He was going to have to curb those, because after being ill for so long, he really was going to need people to assist him during his convalescence. He was also under no illusions that he was going to find all of this thoroughly miserable.

Mick arrived to help him walk to his quarters and he found himself very slowly stumbling down the corridor, leaning heavily on Sara and Mick as they patiently supported his faltering steps. He felt so useless and weak. He was very pleased to sit down on his own bed and allowed Sara and Mick to help him get situated amongst the pillows and blankets. He noticed that Miranda’s blanket had made it back to his quarters with him and he clutched it with a grateful hand. The softness of the bed lulled him into sleep almost immediately and he hardly noticed his helpers leave.

***

His eyes opened. The world was different now. The weakness in his body was gone and his vision was bathed in cold, blue light. He felt his mind shifting. The human part was still there but now the machines whispered to him.

“You’re awake,” said Zero, standing close to his bed. “We’ll need to find you a new name.”

“Yes,” replied Rip, as Godiva helped him to sit up. “The pain and weakness is gone. I am a new man.”

“There are tests that must be performed. Those who have crossed with direct eyes, to death’s kingdom,” said Godiva-bot. Then the robot took him through a series of exercises to test out his range of movement and how well the metal parts of himself had integrated. He flexed his new artificial muscles and walked on his new legs. He looked down at the shining metal that now encased his robotic arms and sensed every inch. All seemed to be well, despite an uneasy feeling that he had at the back of his mind that all was very much not well.

“We allowed you to keep your face,” said Zero. “I found it pleasing.”

“Thank you for your mercy, Captain,” said Rip, with a dip of his head in reverence to his mistress.

“I believe I have a name for you,” said Zero. “You will be Erebus, my shadow.”

Rip, now Erebus, nodded. “As you wish, Captain.”

“Erebus, your former crew are still fighting me. I want the Waverider. Get it for me,” said Zero.

Erebus nodded. “Of course.”

He could hear the sound of fighting. He instinctively knew how to activate his new shield and how to fire the weapons in his arms. It was simple to avoid the shots from his former crew’s weapons. He held out the palm of his hand and fired at Mick Rory. The pyromaniac dodged at the last second and he ended up catching him a glancing blow rather than the outright kill shot he had planned. He managed the shot on the second try, although it only knocked his enemy down. He turned on Ray Palmer next.

Ray’s weapons could penetrate his shield, so he rotated the frequency and enjoyed the look of shock on the inventor’s face when his energy blast failed to penetrate a second time.

“My mind is now much faster and smarter than yours, Doctor Palmer,” said Erebus. “You have a choice. Take your wounded and leave this ship, or I will kill you.”

“Rip!” shouted Sara. “Rip, stop it. This isn’t you. We can all go back to the Waverider and work this out.”

“Rip Hunter is dead, Miss Lance. My name is Erebus and the Waverider is my ship, not yours.”

A knife came spinning through the air and lodged in his left shoulder. He detected the hit, but he turned off his pain receptors in that area and continued forwards. He shot down an approaching Firestorm, Jackson hitting the deck hard before he could even get a shot off. He faced off against Sara Lance, stood there in all her White Canary glory, hair falling over her shoulders, pain in her eyes and her staff out in front of her.

“Rip, you have to be in there somewhere,” she pleaded.

“He is,” said Erebus. “He is remembering how you once held a knife to his throat.”

“Not my finest moment,” replied Sara. “Does he also remember me holding his hand whilst he was in sickbay? Bringing him soup when he was ill? Rescuing him from the Time Masters’ jail?”

“All in the past now,” said Erebus. She aimed the staff at him and he caught it. He was stronger than her now, and he thrust her back against the wall. She hit her head with a resounding thump, and she left a bloody mark as she slid, broken to the ground.

He turned back to Doctor Palmer. “I gave you a chance because I remember what it was like to know you, but the Captain has given me orders to kill you.” He held up his hand, the next shot glowing in his palm.

“Rip, that’s the machines talking,” said Ray, simply. “Rip would never hurt us like you just did. You have to fight this. We can help you. You must be in incredible pain, to be merged like that without your consent.”

For a moment, Erebus flickered out and Rip clawed his way out of the mire of machine thinking. He lowered his hand.

“It’s too late for me, Doctor Palmer. Take Sara, Jax and Mick and leave this ship,” said Rip. “My true self is fading under the machine implants Zero has installed. I will stall her for as long as I can, but when you next see me, I will not be the man you knew. The transformation to Erebus will be complete and there is no way for me to stop it.”

“I refuse to believe that,” said Ray. “There has to be a way to reverse what she did to you.”

Rip shook his head. “The machines are stronger than the sliver of humanity that I have left. You have seen how easily I hurt you. It will get worse until I am like Zero Hour, devoid of all humanity. Now, please, go, before I lose control again.”

“Okay,” said Ray, reluctantly, “I’ll keep looking for some way to get you back though. I’m not giving up.” He was shaking Mick back to his senses and scooping up Sara in his arms as he said it, and Rip knew that Ray would do as asked now.

“I appreciate your efforts, Doctor Palmer.” He felt Erebus trying to reassert itself and merge the last remaining vestiges of his personality with the machine again.

“Won’t she punish you for letting us go,” said Ray.

“Nothing could be worse than what she’s already done,” said Rip. “Go, I’m losing the fight…”

He closed his eyes as he struggled internally. When he opened them, his team were gone and so was Rip Hunter. He turned around and headed back towards where he knew his Captain to be. He would gladly accept whatever punishment she meted out and such a mistake would not happen again, because his flawed human part had been eradicated. Erebus had complete control.

Rip awoke with a jerk and sat bolt upright. His breathing was rapid, so fast that he knew he couldn’t control it, especially as his heart was also racing in his chest. He looked down at his arms, seeing the pink skin and then he threw off his covers and checked that his legs were also still there and made of flesh. He tumbled out of his bed, tangling his feet in the blankets and landing hard on his side as he tried to get up.

He frantically extricated himself from his sheets and ran to the bathroom, the lights automatically turning on as he entered the room, and stared at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were not blue, or glowing, they were the same mossy green that they’d always been. His skin was pale and damp with sweat. He had avoided looking at himself too much in the mirror because he hadn’t liked what he’d seen before and now with wild hair and sunken cheeks, he looked like someone who had been very sick for quite some time. He did not look like a robot, however.

He suddenly felt his stomach turning and found himself stumbling to the toilet and throwing up in it. His body was still weak and he had to sit on the bathroom floor for a moment to recover himself enough to even be able to think of getting up. His muscles were aching again and his newly acquired bruises were making themselves known. He felt stupid for letting a dream get the better of him so thoroughly but here he was. He heard a muffled shout from out in his room.

“Rip!” that was Sara’s voice. “Rip, where are you?”

“In here,” he shouted back, as loudly as he could manage. He grabbed a towel quickly in an attempt to clean himself up slightly.

He hadn’t bothered to shut the door, so she just leaned in the doorway, looking down at him. She seemed somewhat concerned.

“Are you okay? Gideon said that I should check on you,” said Sara.

“Did she, now?” said Rip, looking upwards, with annoyance.

“Given your elevated heart rate, it seemed prudent,” said Gideon.

“I had a bad dream, that’s all,” said Rip.

“Which is why you’re sat on your bathroom floor looking like death,” replied Sara. “I’d say it was possibly more than just a bad dream.”

“It was a _very_ bad dream,” said Rip, resting his head against the tiles. They were cool against his skin and it felt quite good.

“Well, you can’t stay down there,” said Sara, entering the room and offering him a hand up. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

He let out a defeated sigh and accepted the hand.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” said Rip, as Sara helped him to his feet and then supported him as he tottered back to his bed. He’d be really happy when he could stop comparing his strength to that of baby animals.

“Might help,” said Sara.

“I doubt it,” replied Rip.

“No, you’re right, just let it stew, I’m sure that’ll make it much better,” said Sara, matter-of-factly.

Rip rolled his eyes, and gave in, because he knew Sara Lance and she was tenacious.

“I dreamt that Zero finished the job she started, turned me into a machine, and then I tried to kill you all,” said Rip, as he got back into bed and got himself settled against his pillows.

Sara poured him a glass of water and sat down on the edge of the bed. She offered it to him and he took it gratefully, sipping it slowly, hoping to still his churning stomach.

“It was quite vivid,” he added, looking down at his hands.

Sara moved a little closer and in a rapid movement, she pinched him hard before he realised what was happening.

“Owwe! What was that for?” he asked, indignantly.

“You feel like flesh and blood to me,” said Sara.

“Thank you, but I do have eyes. I can see that my arm is not actually made of metal,” said Rip. “It just felt very real. Can we drop this? I’m tired. I’m always tired.”

“Hey, give it time. You nearly died. You can’t expect to be back to full strength right away,” said Sara.

“It’s been weeks, Sara. I’ve either been ill or recovering for weeks,” said Rip. “I’m too tired to even stay awake long enough to read a book, and every time I close my eyes I’m back on the Helios. I’m fed up. I’d like my life back now, please.”

Sara gave him a sympathetic look.

“I know it’s not fun but at least you’re out of medbay and getting better,” said Sara.

“I suppose so,” said Rip. “But we need to get back to fixing aberrations.”

“We’re not jumping anywhere until you’re much stronger,” said Sara.

“But who knows what damage is being done to the timeline while we sit here? Gideon won’t give me any information,” he said, crossly.

“Yes, because we told her not to,” said Sara.

“I assumed that was the case,” said Rip. “We can’t just take a holiday from protecting time.”

“We can and we are,” said Sara. “I promise, everything will get better. You just need to have a little faith and some patience.”

“Yes, of course,” said Rip. “I’m sorry, I must sound ridiculously pathetic. I’m just rather feeling my own limits at the moment.”

“Why don’t we get you out of your quarters for a while?” suggested Sara. “We could do a team dinner tonight.”

“I doubt I’d be very good company,” said Rip. “I’ll just fall asleep.”

“We’ll cope,” said Sara. “Get some sleep now and I’ll send one of the guys to get you when it’s time for dinner.”

“I’m not getting out of this, am I?”

“No,” said Sara. “You’re not.”

***

Team dinner was a more sedate affair that usual. Normally there was more arguing and bickering, but Rip was unusually quiet and it put a dampener on the mood. He picked at his food but ate more than he normally managed. He had coped with sitting upright at the table for the entire meal, but Sara could see him waning. They’d kept him up longer than he was used to. He was resting his elbow on the table and then his head on his hand as he blinked heavily.

“Hey, Rip,” said Jax. “Do you want someone to take you back to your quarters?”

“Hmm?” asked Rip, miles away from the conversation.

“You’re looking very tired, Captain,” said Martin.

“Oh,” said Rip. “Sorry. I am finding it hard to stay awake at the moment.”

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea of mine,” said Sara, a little worriedly.

“No, it was,” said Rip, “I was getting a bit fed up with my quarters.”

“We should get you out more often then,” said Ray. “I was thinking about having a movie night tomorrow. We can set up some chairs in the study and watch a film on the big screen there.”

“That actually sounds kind of fun,” said Jax. “What did you want to watch?”

“I thought we should start with the classics. How about Star Wars?” asked Ray.

“Good film,” said Mick, sipping his beer. “Shame about the stupid teddy bears in the third one.”

“Oh come on, the Ewoks aren’t that bad,” said Ray. “They’re no Jar Jar.”

“I actually kind of like the third one of the new films,” said Jax.

“Are you talking about the prequels or the sequels?” asked Rip. “You know they made sixteen Star Wars films?”

“Wait, what?” asked Ray. “They’ve made eight films.”

“In 2017 they’ve made eight films,” said Rip. “There are a few more after that. I remember showing them all to Jonas. It took us an entire half term holiday to get through them all. Gideon has them all on file.”

Ray’s eyes were wide with shock. “Are you telling me that we have every Star Wars film ever made on board the Waverider? Including the ones that, er, haven’t been made yet?”

“Of course,” said Rip. “We’re on a time ship and I happen to like science fiction films.”

“I think you just gave Ray an aneurysm,” said Sara, looking at the inventor’s shocked face and grinning with amusement

“I probably shouldn’t mention the vast back catalogue of Star Trek then,” said Rip, with the smallest touch of mischief. “I don’t think they ever stopped finding new ways to carry on that franchise.”

“Oh wow,” said Ray, still clearly reeling from the revelation. “I’m going to be watching films for weeks.”

“Maybe start small, dude,” said Jax. “Original trilogy tomorrow night. Who’s joining us?”

“I suppose I could take a night off from my research,” said Martin.

“I’ll watch the first two, but you can keep the dancing teddy bears,” said Mick.

Sara shrugged. “I’ve never seen them, so I guess it’s time that I did.”

“Rip? You in?” asked Jax.

“You know that I’m just going to fall asleep,” said Rip.

“You’ve seen them before. We’ll wake you up for the good explosions,” said Ray.

Rip gave a good-natured sigh. “Very well, as long as Gideon is prepared to relax the rules to allow it?”

“I think it would be an acceptable activity. I have been worried about post illness depression,” said Gideon.

Rip frowned. “Really? I haven’t been that down, have I?”

“Heading that way,” said Sara, “but we’ll make sure it doesn’t get that far.”

Rip gave a thoughtful nod. “I appreciate you all taking the time to help me with my recovery.” He couldn’t look them in the eye, because Sara knew what it cost him to even say it. He hated admitting weakness, and the entire team had seen him at his most vulnerable.

“You’re welcome,” said Sara.

“And you don’t have to thank us,” said Jax. “You know we’re always here for you.”

“I do, but I’m not sure that I did,” said Rip, still not looking at the team. “I think it took nearly dying for me to realise that I have a team, and you actually do care. I apologise to you all for it taking me so long to understand.”

“Always said you were a moron,” said Mick.

“Group hug!” shouted Ray, jumping to his feet. “Rip in the middle!”

Sara saw the moment Rip’s eyes widened in horror and knew what she had to do. “Group hug!” she shouted, grabbing Mick by the arm and propelling him in Rip’s direction whether he wanted to go or not. She saw Jax doing likewise with Martin, whilst Ray was already enveloping Rip in a bear hug.

“This really is not necessary,” said Rip, feebly, and it was already too late, because Sara and Jax were bundling in with their more reluctant team members being dragged along for the ride.

“I’m not drunk enough for this,” said Mick.

“Shut up and hug,” said Sara. “You too Martin.”

The professor sighed and gave in, joining the circle of arms.

“If any of you ever mention this again, then I will disown you all,” said Rip, from the centre of the six-person hug, but Sara felt the moment he allowed himself to put his head down and feel the warmth of five people demonstrating that they did indeed care about him.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “Thank you all.”


	14. Back on the Right Path

 

* * *

 

“Gideon, where is he?” asked Sara, surveying Rip’s empty quarters.

“If you are referring to the Captain, he is in his study on the bridge,” said Gideon.

“Idiot,” said Sara, “normal people rest, but not him.” He was not supposed to be going anywhere on his own. He’d been back in his own quarters barely three days and he was already breaking the rules.

She strode onto the bridge, towards the study. “Rip Hunter!” she proclaimed, ready to shout at him for his recklessness. The rest of the sentence never made it past her lips as she walked up the steps and saw him. He was asleep in one of the leather armchairs, Miranda’s blanket over his knees and one shoulder, and his head resting to the left side on the wing of the backrest.

He looked too thin and too pale, and still too ill to be out of bed. He was wearing a dark grey t-shirt and sweatpants, a step up from pyjamas but only just, and no socks or shoes. The one arm that she could see had bruises down it from the seven antiviral injections. They were fading but not gone, turning interesting shades of yellowish green and blue. His eyes had dark circles around them, but his face was currently at peace. He breathed evenly and slowly, without any indication of bad dreams.

She stood looking at him for a moment, and knew she couldn’t wake him. He needed rest and it didn’t matter where he was while he got it. It looked like he’d been reading a book and it had fallen out of his hand when he fell asleep. She picked up the tatty paperback that was on the floor in front of Rip’s chair and sat down in the chair next to his, very quietly poured herself a glass of the amber rum that was currently in his decanter, and turned to the first page without checking the title. It was a book of poetry, because of course it was, this was Rip’s domain and he did stupid stuff like read poetry for fun.

This was a book of collected poems, so it didn’t seem to be any one author or even arranged on a particular theme, but some of the pages had corners turned over. There were pencil notes in the margins that she recognised as Rip’s careful writing. She sipped her drink and read, slightly amused by some of Rip’s insights. One poem had a note which stated: “probably written because he failed to pick me up at a party” at the top of the page. Sara would have paid money to see that.

Rip stirred in his seat, and she gave him a moment to orient himself, and blink open his eyes fully. He frowned.

“Are you reading my poetry anthology?” he asked, with puzzlement.

“Yes. Did Oscar Wilde really write a poem about striking out with you at a party?”

“Well, I have no positive proof, but it was around the right time and I believe I was the only one to turn him down that night,” said Rip. “He wasn’t really my type and Miranda would have killed me.”

Sara laughed at that. “No doubt.”

“I trust you’re enjoying my good 1889 Trinidadian rum,” said Rip.

“It’s not bad,” replied Sara, taking another mouthful to make her point.

“Philistine,” murmured Rip.

“I promise I’ll leave you some for when you’re off all the meds and allowed to partake again,” she smiled.

He gave her a rather disappointed nod, and then there was silence between them while Rip worked up the courage to address the fact that he wasn’t where he was supposed to be.

“I assume I’m in trouble?” he asked, quietly, looking down at his feet like a naughty child.

“Yup,” said Sara. “Although at least you were sleeping. What possessed you to come here on your own?”

Rip shrugged. “I knew my poetry book was here.”

“You could have just asked one of us to get it for you,” said Sara. “What’s so important about a dogeared book of poems that you have to ignore Gideon’s sound medical advice and get up to find it?”

“Godiva was quoting T.S. Eliot,” said Rip. “I was too ill to really understand at the time, but it came to me last night. I felt the need to read the originals.”

“So, you got up for poetry. Godiva was a mad AI, who knows why she said those things,” said Sara.

“Eliot wrote a lot about disintegration, things failing and falling apart. Death.” He gave a half shrug. “And, for some reason, cats, but Godiva was quoting from the more serious portions of his work. Which I suppose makes sense given what had happened to her. Godiva wasn’t just a robot, she was an AI going insane. Everything she said meant something to her and was an indication of the pain that she was in.”

Sara was a little worried now. Clearly Rip was blaming himself and brooding, and that was never a sign of anything good when it came to their Captain.

“She tried to turn you into a cyborg,” said Sara.

“She was protecting her Captain,” said Rip. “And we killed her for it.”

“Her Captain infected you with a virus that nearly killed you _and_ was also trying to turn you into a cyborg,” pointed out Sara.

“And yet I still feel that I should have done more,” said Rip, resting his head back.

“You’re still getting nightmares?” asked Sara.

Rip nodded. “I fear this experience may be with me for a while, for a multitude of reasons, and not just because a robot that looked like an extra from a horror movie wanted to slice me open with a scalpel.” It was said lightly, but she noticed him suppress a shudder, and she caught the second that his eyes were seeing something that wasn’t in the room, before he was back with her. Flashbacks sucked. Luckily Rip’s didn’t seem to be crippling, just unpleasant.

“It’s okay, you know, to take some time to deal with this,” said Sara.

“This isn’t the first time that something I’ve done has made it hard for me to sleep,” replied Rip. “I know it will get better but, in the meantime, I’ll survive, as I always have.”

“This wasn’t your fault, though,” said Sara. “We all agreed to blow up the Oculus. It wasn’t just you.”

“But I did break my oath to the Time Masters, and I can’t place the blame for that upon anyone but myself,” said Rip, adjusting his blanket.

“The Time Masters were corrupt bastards who thought Vandal Savage was our saviour,” said Sara, taking another sip of her drink. “And they wanted to kill us.”

“I know, and that’s the problem I’m faced with. I would do it all over again. My only real wish is that there had been less collateral damage,” said Rip, his voice full of guilt.

“You’re not a bad person for wanting to save your family, Rip, or for wanting to free the timeline from the Time Masters, or killing Vandal Savage,” said Sara. “I was standing beside you when we did all of that, remember?”

“Yes,” said Rip, “but you didn’t betray people who were your friends and colleagues to do it. It’s no wonder Hera and Godiva hated me so much and blamed me for what happened. To them I was an abominable traitor.”

Rip shook his head, as if he was trying to understand how this had happened, and Sara understood his dilemma, she really did. Every time she saw Nyssa she felt something of what he was feeling now, but she wasn’t an assassin now any more than he was a Time Master.

“The Time Masters weren’t worth your loyalty, and if Hera and Godiva had been in their right minds then they would have realised that too,” said Sara.

“Maybe,” said Rip. He eyed the decanter, clearly considering whether it was worth going against Gideon’s no alcohol order, before his shoulders slumped and he apparently decided against it. “I think I need to go back to bed.”

“Do you want to take the book with you?” she asked.

“No, I never liked Eliot’s poems anyway,” he said. “And I know my favourites by the other authors in that book off by heart.”

“You do?” asked Sara.

“Of course. Remembering poetry was one of the ways I was taught to exercise my memory skills,” said Rip.

“Go on then,” said Sara. “Give me an example.”

Rip gave the smallest of smiles, appeared to consider for a moment and then began to recite:

“When I do count the clock that tells the time,  
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;  
When I behold the violet past prime,  
And sable curls all silvered o'er with white;  
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,  
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,  
And summer’s green all girded up in sheaves  
Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard;  
Then of thy beauty do I question make,  
That thou among the wastes of time must go,  
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake  
And die as fast as they see others grow,  
And nothing 'gainst Time’s scythe can make defence  
Save breed to brave him when he takes thee hence.”

“That was beautiful,” said Sara. “And appropriate for a Time Master. Who wrote it?”

“Shakespeare,” said Rip. “I’ve still never found a poet that I enjoy reading more than him.”

Sara allowed herself to grin at that. “Well, I suppose that explains the old-fashioned language.” She said offering Rip a hand up, which he took.

“What old-fashioned language?” asked Rip.

“You know, all the weird old stuff that you say: “it vexes me” “ministers of grace preserve us” “all for nought” “cutpurse” – that stuff.”

Rip frowned. “That’s not because I read Shakespeare.”

“It’s not?” asked Sara, folding up the blanket that had dropped to the floor.

“No, it’s because that’s how people talked where I spent the first few years of my life.”

“Didn’t you say you were from the future?”

“Well, that’s where Miranda and I settled when we had Jonas, and the Time Masters originated in the future. I wasn’t born there,” said Rip.

“You weren’t?”

“No,” said Rip, as if it was completely obvious.

“Are you going to tell me when you _were_ born?”

Rip let out a laugh. “And give away the one secret that would allow my enemies to target me by going back in time to kill my baby self? Besides I’ve never exactly been sure myself. Probably sometime during the reign of Elizabeth I but I didn’t pay much attention to politics whilst starving and thieving so it could have been anywhere around that time. It’s hard to pinpoint a time period with only one’s idiomatic language and a vague recollection of the fashions of the day to give clues.”

“The Time Masters never told you where you came from?” Sara found herself feeling a little taken aback by this. Everyone deserved to know where they came from. She’d been aware that Rip was an orphan after their stop at the Refuge, but she’d never considered what he might know about his family.

“It’s better not to know,” said Rip. “As I said, if I don’t know then I can’t reveal it to my enemies and they can’t hurt me with it.”

“But didn’t you ever want to find out?” asked Sara.

“Not really,” said Rip. “After all, you’ve met the only person that I’ve ever called Mother. And you should know by now, family isn’t just what you were born to, it’s whatever and wherever you choose to make it. I will always be grateful for the time I had with mine.”

He seemed suddenly sad, and she hadn’t meant to make him sad. She’d hoped to cheer him up.

“You know, you have us too,” said Sara. “Or did you miss the group hug moment? We may be a bunch of misfits, but we’re your misfits.”

“Don’t I know it,” said Rip. “And may the gods help us all.” However, he was smiling and that happened so rarely that Sara considered this to be a win.

As Sara helped Rip back to his quarters an idea began to form in her mind, something that would cheer Rip up perhaps, and might also help them with their wayward Captain’s inability to rest. Yes, she thought, it was perfect.

***

Rip had made it all the way to the sofa in his quarters without any help and was declaring victory for today. He was trying to read a book between naps when the door opened, unbidden. He was about to suggest that it would have been polite to have asked for entry first, when his mother walked into the room. He blinked twice, wondering if he was dreaming, but no, Mary Xavier was standing in his quarters on the Waverider looking quite upset, and he suspected that he was the cause.

“Oh my dear boy,” she said, looking him over.

“Mother?” he asked, too shocked to really form any other kind of coherent thoughts about why she was here. “Uh…how?”

“Two of your friends came to see me at the Refuge in your jump-ship,” she said, heading in his direction, arms out to hug him. “They explained to me that you’ve been very ill and they thought I might want to visit.”

He accepted the hug with bewilderment. “They shouldn’t have bothered you. I’m already on the mend.”

“They did explain,” said his mother. She disengaged from the hug and perched herself on the sofa beside his outstretched legs. “You look terrible.”

“Mother!” he said, with annoyance. “I have been _quite_ ill.”

“So I heard. Why didn’t you call? I’d have been here sooner if I’d known,” she said, deep concern written across her face.

“We were chasing a dangerous time criminal,” said Rip, with slight annoyance. “I really didn’t have time to stop off and pick up my mother.”

“Michael! Is that any way to talk to me? Besides, Sara and Martin gave me the complete story, so I know that you’ve been in Kasnia for a couple of weeks now.” She gave him one of those looks that he’d always dreaded as a child. It was the one she reserved for when one of her children had been caught out in a lie.

“I was unconscious for part of that,” he pointed out, looking off into the distance. “And I assume that my team didn’t think to do it on my behalf until now.” He would be having words with them about this later.

“Excuses, excuses,” said his mother. “I know you don’t like to drag me into your world, but this is one of those times when really you should have known better. I love you and worry about you, especially now Miranda isn’t around to talk sense into you.”

Rip’s eyes were suddenly on his mother. “Do you ever wish I’d never been brought to you?”

“No! Of course not! What on earth would make you ask me such a thing?” She looked positively hurt by his words.

“I brought down the Time Masters, your employers. I didn’t intend to kill anyone but I know that some people must have died when the Vanishing Point was destroyed. I can’t have been the only one of your children who was there that day,” said Rip.

“No, you weren’t, and you’re not the only one who survived it either, in case you were wondering, but you know that I won’t betray my children and so I won’t give you their names. The fact is that the Time Council were rotten to the core and they deserved what they got. I will never forgive them for what they did to you, my daughter-in-law and my grandchild. In case you’ve forgotten, they took them from me as well as you.” Rip could see that there were tears in her eyes, but they were hastily blinked away. “I still remember the morning that the Waverider landed on my lawn and you came in with a tiny baby in your arms and introduced your son to me. He was an adorable child, and the Time Masters took him from us both.”

“That they did,” said Rip, sadly, leaning against the back of the sofa. He reached out a hand and his mother took it, giving it a loving squeeze. “How much did they tell you about why I was ill?”

“Not a lot and from the looks they were giving each other, I’d say there were a good few lies in the mix. They mentioned that a Time Pirate infected you with a mutating virus that had you laid up for days whilst you beat it and then another mutation would bring you back to square one. It must have been miserable.”

“It was, but she wasn’t a Time Pirate, or at least it was more complicated than that. She was an injured Time Master, whose AI had rebuilt her using body parts from a prisoner she was transporting, machinery from some confiscated robots, and the AI herself. Her ship’s AI turned her into a nightmarish cyborg that had lost all trace of her humanity.” He couldn’t look up at his mother, he hadn’t got to the important detail yet.

“How horrible, and terribly, terribly sad,” said his mother.

“The thing is,” said Rip, and paused because he was having trouble speaking. His emotions were getting the better of him. “The thing is… it was all my fault. She was returning to the Vanishing Point when the blast wave from our destruction of the Oculus threw her back into the time stream and her ship was damaged. I made her into that thing and then Gideon killed her for me.”

“Gideon? Surely not,” she said.

“If I had not then she would have continued to attack the Captain and he was unable to defend himself at the time,” said Gideon. “It was the only logical step.”

“We have talked about this, Gideon,” said Rip.

“They were exceptional circumstances,” said Gideon.

“You carry on protecting him, Gideon. Lord knows, he’s completely useless at it himself,” said his mother.

“I am not,” complained Rip, indignantly.

“Says the man currently recovering from a rather horrible biological weapon attack,” replied his mother. “Looking after yourself has never been one of your strong points, and you’re a terrible one for blaming yourself as well.”

“In this case, it’s entirely justified,” said Rip.

“Poppycock! You decided to create the Oculus, did you? And manipulate everyone to do your bidding so that a mad tyrant could come to power?” Mary was not at all pleased.

“You know that I didn’t,” said Rip.

“No, you’re the one who had the courage to rebel against them and destroy the evil thing. Honestly, Michael, for someone so intelligent, you can be incredibly dim at times. None of this is your fault. It’s theirs. You need to put it all behind you and move on with your life.”

“That is somewhat difficult when a mad, cyborg, former colleague decides to try to kill me,” he said with frustration.

“Great actions have great consequences, even when the intentions are good,” she said. “You have a good heart, Michael. You’re always going to feel these things deeply, but you have people who love you that you can lean on.”

“I suppose I do,” he said.

“There is no “suppose” about it,” she replied, squeezing his hand again. “Right, now we’ve got that out the way we can address your recovery. Gideon and Sara went through everything with me, and they have a good physiotherapy schedule worked out and I’ve made up a proper meal plan with them. I did point out that they need to be better at doing things for you because I know you’ll never ask anyone for anything if you can help it.”

Rip rolled his eyes.

“And what is this I hear about you wandering around the ship when you should be resting?”

“That happened once,” replied Rip. “Quite frankly I’m too tired most of the time to do anything so strenuous as walk around the ship.”

“I never thought I would live to see the day that I found you wallowing in self-pity,” said his mother, with some disappointment in her tone. “Yes, you’ve been ill and I can only imagine how miserable, painful and frightening that’s been, but you are getting better now and you will make a complete recovery. It’s past time that you worked that out.”

“Yes, Mum,” said Rip, duly contrite.

“I have also given your friends a hard and fast date for when you are allowed to time jump again. I can’t believe that you’ve even been suggesting it yet, or that you persuaded Gideon to let you before when you were ill. That was incredibly reckless and utterly against everything I taught you. Imagine how I would have felt if I lost you to a stupid time jump.”

“But you would have been fine with losing me to a weaponised virus,” said Rip, with a raised eyebrow. “I was hunting for the cure, you know. I didn’t exactly have much choice.”

“Don’t be impertinent. There are always alternatives. Where was I? Oh yes, I’m staying on the Waverider for the next week to help out. Your friends are lovely, but they’ve never dealt with a sick Time Master and have no idea how difficult you can be, especially when you’re bored.”

“You’re staying? You really don’t need to,” said Rip, quickly, however he found himself unexpectedly happy at the idea.

“But I want to,” said his mother, and perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad plan.

The door opened again and Sara came in with a tray that had cups and saucers on it and Rip’s large teapot.

“Oh good, I think we could all do with some tea,” said his mother.

“How’s it going?” Sara asked as she put the tray down on the table by the sofa. “I wasn’t sure how you took your tea, Mary, so I brought everything.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, Sara dear,” she said, as if she’d known Sara for years.

“You might have warned me,” said Rip, folding his arms across his chest.

“And spoil the surprise? Not a chance,” replied Sara, grinning.

“He’ll get over it. He’s just grumpy from lack of sleep,” his mother said.

“I’ve made up the bed in Kendra’s old quarters and put your suitcase in there for you,” Sara added, as she poured the tea and handed round the cups, which Rip took gratefully. He suspected that he would need tea to cope with this. Sara pulled up a chair so that she could join them.

“So, do you have any good stories about him as a tiny Time Master?” asked Sara.

“None which she is going to share with you,” said Rip, before his mother could answer.

“Do you remember getting Scarlet Fever?” his mother asked. “You were terribly sick with it. One of the new children brought it in and you all got it.”

Rip frowned. “No, I don’t think I do.”

“You hadn’t been with me long and it was before I’d had a chance to schedule your vaccinations. You barely even trusted me normally, let alone when you weren’t feeling well. You didn’t tell me you were ill and I found you hiding in the under stairs cupboard, running a ridiculous fever that we could have dealt with in five seconds if you had actually mentioned you didn’t feel well. Instead it took much longer to get you back on your feet. You hated the Infirmary…” she sighed.

“You sat with me…” said Rip, suddenly remembering. “All night, I think. Until the treatment was done, definitely, and then I seem to remember I slept for an entire day. Did I ever say thank you?”

Mary let out a small laugh. “Goodness, no. You were just eight and I was still the enemy, who wouldn’t let you hide food or steal the silverware. You did eventually come around.”

“You hid food and stole silverware?” asked Sara.

“Well, I tried,” said Rip, with a laugh. “Mum kept finding my stashes of food and she had sharp eyes when it came to counting the knives.”

“I let you hide the food. It made you feel better so I never saw the harm and eventually you stopped. You were literally starving when you arrived at my door so I knew you’d be a hoarder. You probably didn’t even notice that I used to leave things out on purpose for you to take,” she said, with a small smile.

“You did?” he asked, trying to remember any indication that he’d realised that, but if he had then he’d probably have considered it to be a trap so wouldn’t have taken it.

It made perfect sense though. It had taken him quite some time to understand that Mary Xavier would never hurt him, or starve him, or ask him to steal for her. Her idea of punishment was to get him to do the washing up, manually, without help from his foster siblings, or remove his television privileges. She’d never sent him to bed without supper or refused him dessert. Food in the Refuge wasn’t ever withheld as a punishment, although that didn’t mean you were allowed to snack on biscuits between meals either.

“You always were one step ahead of me,” he added, fondly.

“I had to be, otherwise I would have been in great difficulty very quickly,” said Mary. “You were definitely a handful.”

“Hmm,” said Rip, feeling tired again, and leaning back against the sofa.

“Grab his cup,” said Sara, quickly. “He has a habit of just falling asleep whatever he’s doing.”

Mary expertly removed the cup of tea from his tired hands.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” he murmured, and his eyelids closed.

***

The next few days developed something of a surreal quality for Sara. She was never quite sure what was going to happen next. She’d entered the galley on the day after Mary’s arrival to find her baking cakes and Rip sat at a table stirring something in a bowl.

“I thought everyone might enjoy some cake for afternoon tea,” said Mary. “Michael’s helping.”

“I can see,” said Sara. “Is that wise?” Rip had never shown any inclination towards cooking in the past.

“He’s actually quite good at baking,” said Mary, “and it’s good for his arm muscles.”

“She won’t let me use the mixer,” said Rip, plaintively. “You’d get a much better textured sponge if you’d let me do it with the machine.”

Sara raised an eyebrow. “The great Rip Hunter bakes?”

“He used to,” said Mary. “He loved helping me in the kitchen.”

“Alas, not something that I have much time for these days,” said Rip, not looking up from his mixing.

“Well, you might as well have fun during your convalescence,” replied Mary, with her standard vigour, and Rip gave a slight incline of his head as if he agreed.

The cakes turned out beautifully, and disappeared into the team in minutes. Everyone was slightly disbelieving when Sara pointed out that Rip had made the one that had disappeared first, although they all agreed that he should bake more often when Mary corroborated her story. Rip just looked a little embarrassed, but Sara saw the proud look that Mary gave him. She also noticed that Mary made sure he ate an entire slice of cake himself and that she gave him a quick kiss on the top of his head as she removed the empty plate. Positive reinforcement of good behaviour, Sara noted with a small smile.

Once all of that was tidied away, Mary set about making dinner and Rip was given potatoes to peel and cut up, while Sara was pressed into service as the gravy stirrer. As the others came into the galley to see what was going on, Mary assigned them all jobs with practiced ease, and kept Mick away from any open flames. The Waverider’s kitchen had never seen so much action and the food they ate that evening was delicious.

The next day, Sara had stepped into the library to find Ray, Mick, Mary and Rip playing Monopoly. It was the London board, because that was where Rip had picked it up on a whim. Mary was beating everyone spectacularly and had piles of cash and a line of houses out already.

“I did warn you,” said Rip. “She never let us win at board games and she was good at all of them.”

“An important life lesson,” said Mary, as she landed on Bond Street and paid the asking price, thus securing the dark greens to add to her empire of oranges, yellows and a lone red. “Besides, Monopoly is mostly luck and very little skill. If you were on your usual form then you could beat me.”

“Hmm,” was all Rip had to say to that. She noticed that he had the stations, all of the pinks and two light blues. Ray had the dark blues, one red and the utilities, whereas Mick was stuck with browns, the remaining light blue, and a single red, but was also currently in Jail.

“I prefer cards,” said Mick.

“Oh, she can beat you at that too if you like,” said Rip, having clearly had experience.

Sara watched for a bit and then left them to it. She knew how this was going to end. She’d also spotted the bowls of snacks and the surreptitious way that Mary made sure they were always within easy reach of Rip’s fingers. Rip was nibbling on a carrot stick as he paid rent on Mary’s house that he’d landed on, and Sara acknowledged that the woman knew what she was doing. He’d probably eaten more over the course of the game than he’d managed at lunch.

She passed Rip’s room later in the day and the door was open. Mary appeared to be tidying, whilst Rip, who was sat on the bed with his back against a mound of pillows, went through things to throw out or keep. It was so gleefully normal and domestic that Sara stopped to listen for a moment, carefully positioning herself so that she couldn’t be seen.

“You don’t have to wear that uniform anymore, you should really just throw it out,” said Mary, flinging a brown jacket and trousers onto the bed.

“It has some very fond memories for me,” said Rip. “It’s not like I’m lacking for cupboard space.”

“And do you have to wear exactly the same thing every day? I know it’s easier than having to make decisions when you get up, but everything in here is either white, grey, black or brown,” said Mary.

“I do enough dressing up when I’m working,” said Rip. “I like having something predictable to wear when I’m on the Waverider.”

“You could at least pick one bright colour though. This is all so drab,” said Mary. “And some of these should definitely go into the recycler. They’re threadbare.”

“Fine, if you must,” said Rip. “I’m sure Gideon can fabricate me some replacements.”

Then there was a pause and Mary’s voice changed. “Oh, Michael.” She was stood between Sara and whatever was causing her reaction, but Sara could see that she held something in her hand and that she was holding it up to show Rip.

“Oh,” said Rip, his voice also taking on a different quality. “I’d forgotten I even had those. I must have hidden them back there. I was careful not to keep anything obvious on the Waverider, but I suppose they were left behind on one of their visits. I have so little left to remember them by… The house in London was destroyed… I’ve only got the one picture…” His voice was breaking as he spoke.

She watched Mary go over to Rip and wrap him in a hug, as she sat beside him on the bed, resting his head on her shoulder. Finally, she could see what had caused this reaction. Mary was holding two tiny, perfect, white socks in her hand that had little, blue ribbon bows on them. They were so small that they could only have belonged to a baby. Rip’s body was shaking as Mary held him and Sara knew that he was quietly sobbing for all he was worth.

Sara silently walked away. Some things were private and didn’t need an audience.

By dinner time, Rip was acting as if nothing had happened. He was helping to chop vegetables again and discussing exactly how to julienne a carrot. Sara did notice that Mary was more tactile than usual though, giving him a quick squeeze on his shoulder when she passed or brushing his hair away from his forehead. Mary had also made lemon meringue pie, which produced a broad grin on Rip’s face. She filed away that dessert preference for future use, who knew when she might need to bribe their captain with sweets? She was beginning to realise that Rip had something of a sweet tooth.

The following day found Rip and Mary cataloguing the artefacts in the library, study and Rip’s quarters. Apparently, Rip’s paper catalogue was somewhat out of date and needed redoing. Sara found them in Rip’s study and was pleased to see that Rip was sat in an armchair, blanket across his lap, with a pen and a leather-bound ledger, writing entries down in his neat script as Mary went around the room. He still looked ill and tired, but something had changed about how he held himself. Sara finally realised that he looked content, not quite happy, but getting there. It made her smile to see him getting back to his old self.

“You really have become something of a packrat,” said Mary, dusting a white mask with a red spot on the forehead.

“You know how impersonal the Waverider felt when I moved in,” said Rip. “It needed something to make it feel like home.”

“Most other Time Captains don’t collect quite so many trophies,” Mary pointed out. “I trust you checked all of them for possible time line issues before bringing them on board.”

“Of course,” said Rip. “Some of them were gifts, you know.”

“Are you telling me,” said Sara, “that he’s not supposed to collect artefacts from across time and space?”

“It’s definitely frowned upon,” said Mary, moving over to the central table. “What is this hideous squid thing?”

“It’s an octopus. It was carved by an Atlantean, circa 150 BC, and I happen to like it,” replied Rip, slightly defensively.

“Wait, are you saying that Atlantis is real?” asked Sara.

“Very much so,” said Rip. “They’re not terribly into time travel though, so I haven’t had many reasons to visit. It’s supposed to be the most beautiful city on Earth but I think it may have been the Atlanteans that decided to call it that. It’s no more beautiful than any other city and considerably harder to get to, especially if you don’t have gills.” He completed the entry for the octopus statuette and looked up again. “What’s next?”

“Physio,” said Sara, her arms crossed. “You’ve been at this a couple of hours. It’s time for your walk and exercises.”

“And then you’ll want to nap before lunch,” said Mary, picking up the blanket from his lap and folding it so that it didn’t end up on the ground. Mary appreciated tidiness.

Rip closed the ledger with a little disappointment. “Right. How many laps are we doing today?”

“Ten,” said Sara.

He carefully pushed himself up out of his armchair, and waited for a second. Sara knew it was because he still got dizzy every time his stood up, but he’d promised both her and Mary that it was getting better. She didn’t know whether to believe him, but he seemed to have more trouble lying to Mary so she’d accept his assessment at face value.

“Onwards then,” said Rip.

Sara walked with Rip around the corridors of the Waverider and did the required ten laps, slowly but surely. He didn’t need her support anymore, now that he was getting stronger, but she still stayed close in case he stumbled. This short walk would wear him out.

“You and Mary have been busy, with all the cooking, and board games, and cleaning and cataloguing,” said Sara, as they walked.

“She has an aversion to doing nothing and expects others to follow her lead,” said Rip. “She ran the Refuge like a military operation.” He gestured in Mary’s direction. “I don’t think I said thank you for bringing her here. It was a good idea.”

“You said that she was the only proper family you had growing up. I know I’d want my family with me if I’d been ill,” said Sara.

Rip nodded. “I’m lucky to have her. A lot of the other orphans that the Time Masters collected didn’t end up with such good guardians.”

“So, what have you got planned for the rest of the week?” she asked.

“Finish the catalogue, try to beat my mother at any one of the many board games that we haven’t tried yet and do my best to continue to prevent her from revealing embarrassing stories from my childhood,” said Rip, with a little exasperation at the last item.

“Maybe before she goes, we should do something nice for her. Something that your mom likes to do? Give her a turn at being looked after,” Sara suggested.

“That would be… appropriate,” said Rip.

“What does she like then?” asked Sara.

“Erm… do you know, I really have no idea,” said Rip. “I mean, she definitely enjoys all the things we’ve been doing, but you’re talking about something that’s just for her. I’ve never actually seen her relax and do something just for fun.”

“Well, I guess we could at least cook for her,” said Sara.

“I wouldn’t,” said Rip. “None of you are that good at it and the idea of Mr Rory using the cooker in the Waverider’s galley worries me. Also, Mother has very high standards when it comes to food.”

“Okay, sandwiches then,” said Sara, she’d have been offended by Rip’s words if they weren’t completely true. “And maybe a picnic?”

“That could work,” said Rip.

“You know we’re all going to miss her when she goes back to the Refuge. While you’ve been taking your daily nap, she’s got an afternoon bridge four going with Ray, Mick and Martin.”

“Bridge? Oh dear. She’s exceptionally good at that. Who did she pick as her partner?”

“Mick,” replied Sara.

“Well, she does love a challenge,” said Rip. “Although I seem to remember that Mick is a perfectly competent card player.”

“Yes, but, apparently, Martin’s quite the card sharp and Ray can count cards. Although Mick is scared of letting Mary down and they’ve got a secret code going. Jax has been keeping score and thinks it’s all hilarious.”

“I’m sure he does,” said Rip, who was beginning to show signs of exertion from the walk.

“Okay, just back to your quarters now,” said Sara.

“Oh thank god,” said Rip, dropping his head down for a second. “I wasn’t sure if we were on lap nine or ten.”

Sara moved a bit closer and offered Rip her arm. “Come on, lean.”

“Thank you,” he murmured, putting his arm through Sara’s. They made it to his quarters where Mary had already turned down the bed and set out the pills Rip needed to take.

“You are actually spoiling me, Mother,” said Rip, as Sara helped him to the bed. “I’m going to be incapable of doing a thing for myself by the end of the week.”

“I doubt you’ll be anything of the sort. Right, exercises and then I’ll give you a massage,” said Mary, in a no-nonsense manner. “It’ll help those tired muscles. After that you can sleep.”

Rip gave an appreciative sigh. “That sounds perfect.”

Sara allowed herself a smile. She’d witnessed one of Mary’s massages earlier in the week and it had left Rip in a state of blissful, boneless, incoherence that led almost immediately to nightmare-free sleep. She couldn’t fault Mary’s methods, but decided to give the two of them some privacy.

She met Ray in the corridor.

“Nap time?” he asked. They’d become used to the schedule that Mary had Rip working to, and the structure seemed to be helping him, especially when it came to sleep. He was becoming less tired and staying awake between scheduled naps. There had been fewer nightmares that had required Gideon calling someone and Mary had even persuaded him to talk to her about what he was dreaming about (robots, Zero, dead team and broken Gideon mainly).

Sara nodded. “Mary’s just doing his exercises with him.”

Ray nodded. “He seems better. Happier too, actually.”

Sara agreed. “I should have thought of this earlier. He listens to Mary.”

“So, are we jumping out next week?” asked Ray.

“Yeah, Mary reckons we’ll be safe by then, and we can take her home.”

“We’re going to miss her,” said Ray, “and all the homecooked meals.”

“Ray!” said Sara, with faux shock.

“What? She’s an awesome cook, and we need to get Rip to bake more often. Did you try those gluten free double chocolate chip cookies he made me yesterday?”

“Yes, they were to die for,” said Sara. “I wonder why he really stopped baking. I know he said he doesn’t have the time, but he we’ve had downtime before and he’s never showed any interest until now.”

“I thought the same thing, so I asked Mary. She says he doesn’t bake anymore because he and Jonas used to make things together for Miranda. He loved doing it, but now it just reminds him of them. I think she’s trying to help him get his hobby back again. Here’s hoping that it works.”

“Well, I’m all for more cakes,” said Sara.

***

They picked a warm, out of the way spot for the team picnic which Gideon had declared safe and free of any problems that might interrupt their lunch and afternoon in the sun. Rip escorted his mother out of the ship to where the team was waiting with a large blanket, cushions, and an old-fashioned picnic basket. He was wearing something that approximated much more closely to his normal attire, rather than the t-shirts and sweats that he’d been in whilst convalescing. It was time he started thinking about getting back to work and this would pretty much mark the end of their enforced holiday.

He had baked bread this morning, shooing Mary out of the kitchen to be taken care of by Jax and Martin so that she wouldn’t fuss over him overdoing it. He wanted to do this and he couldn’t care less if it wiped him out later as long as he made it through the picnic. He was going to do something to repay his Mother for her support and kindness, both now and when he was growing up, and about all he had to offer at the moment were his baking skills.

Sara had joined him and persuaded him to at least sit to do as much of it as possible. She’d also done a lot of the fetching and carrying of ingredients and equipment. Then she’d drafted in Ray for clean-up duty, making Rip a nice cup of tea and telling him to just sit while they tidied away the flour and mixing bowls. Rip suppressed his instinct to feel guilty at letting someone else work while he rested and gave in to Sara’s instructions.

“You didn’t have to do all this for me,” smiled Mary, as she saw the picnic.

“Yes, we really did,” said Rip. “I was a complete mess when you arrived and, as usual, you fixed me and set me back on the right path. I am eternally grateful and a picnic is hardly enough to repay you for your years of love and kindness.”

“As if I ever did it for any sort of payment,” said Mary. “Imagine how dull my life would have been without you and your foster siblings.”

“Quite,” said Rip, as they reached the blanket.

The rest of the team greeted Mary happily and found her a cushion to sit on, and Rip sat down beside her. Sara handed round the plates and then the sandwiches, made from the bread that Rip had baked that morning. They also had three types of salad, snacks and crisps, and some more of the fruits of Rip’s baking from the last few days. Everyone tucked in with enthusiasm. Gideon had given her permission for Rip to have a small amount of alcohol, so Sara poured glasses of wine for everyone except Mick, who had brought his own beer.

“To Mary,” said Sara, holding up her glass. “Thank you for everything. We couldn’t have coped without you.”

Everyone clinked glasses or bottles with enthusiastic agreement and drank.

“I’m sure you’d have managed, but it was my pleasure,” said Mary.

“No, it was mainly ours,” said Rip. “Apologies if I have been somewhat difficult.”

“Only as much as usual,” said Sara. “Come on, let’s eat.”

The team attacked the large pile of sandwiches.

“I for one will miss our bridge afternoons,” said Martin.

“We’re not stopping,” said Mick, “I just need a new partner.”

Martin turned towards Jax. “Don’t look at me,” said Jax. “I’m just the scorer.”

“You’ve been promoted,” said Mick.

“Well, that’s that settled then,” said Ray, patting Jax on the shoulder. It appeared that Jax wasn’t being given a choice.

“Michael, these are delicious,” said Mary, as she finished her first sandwich. “You have a real talent for this. If you ever decide to stop travelling through time then you could have a very profitable business as a baker.”

Rip blushed at the compliment, which he noticed amused Sara.

“You realise that now we know you can bake, you’re going to have to do it more often,” said Sara.

“Yes, I never should have alerted you all to this particular talent,” said Rip.

“That’s not the only talent he has,” said Mary. “He sings very nicely too.”

Rip groaned, putting his head in his hands. “Now you’ve done it.”

“I’ve been known to sing a little,” said Martin. “Perhaps we should look into getting a piano for the Waverider...”

“No!” said Rip, quickly, “where would we even put it?”

“I’m sure we could find room in the library,” said Jax, with amusement.

“Mick has a guitar,” said Sara.

“Just for show,” said Mick. “I can’t play it.”

“I could teach you,” offered Rip, already wondering if it was madness to offer before the words had left his lips.

“Nah,” said Mick. “Tried once but my fingers are too big. Some things just aren’t meant to be. I can play the drums though.” He grinned at that.

“Stop, I’m still getting over the idea that Rip can sing,” said Sara. “And apparently play guitar.”

“The piano too,” said Mary, without any shame, and an amused smile in Rip’s direction. “I like to think that I gave my children an appropriate education to equip them for life and every child should learn to play at least one musical instrument.”

“You’ve been holding out on us, Rip,” said Jax. “You guys should form a band.”

“That sounds like an extraordinarily bad idea, not least because I’m rather rusty,” said Rip.

“Is that why Gideon can sing?” asked Jax. “I mean I know that she’s an AI, but she has kind of a nice voice too. Godiva wasn’t nearly as good as Gideon.”

“An accident of programming, I assure you,” said Rip. “But she does rather enjoy it. Hence her method of disabling her fellow AIs.”

“She always was somewhat unusual,” said Mary. “But she cares a lot about her Captain.”

“Yes, she’s always there for me,” said Rip, with fondness.

“And she fabricated me a football,” said Jax, with a smile, pulling it out from behind his back. “I thought we could have a throw about when we’ve finished eating.”

“Ah, I’m afraid that I’ll be sitting that out,” said Rip.

“Oh come on, Rip,” said Sara, “you can manage to catch a ball.”

“I can catch, I just won’t manage much in the way of running,” said Rip, who still had all the energy of a low watt bulb.

“I have to agree with Michael,” said Mary, “why don’t you let him off this time and we’ll keep score.”

“That assumes that there’ll be some kind of goal,” said Martin.

“Are you up for it, Grey?” asked Jax, gobbling down the last of his sandwich.

“I fear that I’m even less mobile than our dear Captain,” said Martin.

“I’ll play,” said Ray.

“That’s one. Come on, guys, how often do we get to do this kind of stuff? Sara? Mick?”

Sara rolled her eyes, but gave in. “Sure, why not. Come on, Mick. If I’m doing this then you have to as well.”

“You don’t want _me_ on the field,” said Mick, downing the last of his beer.

“You think you can catch me?” asked Jax, moving the ball from one hand to the other.

“Jax, do remember your leg,” said Rip. “Please be careful when baiting Mr Rory. I’m sure we’d all prefer not to have this outing end with you in the medbay.”

Mick gave Jax a broad and dangerous smile. Jax jumped to his feet and dashed away, laughing, with Mick hard on his heels.

“Miss Lance,” said Rip, with resignation, “Perhaps you and Doctor Palmer could see that Mr Rory doesn’t damage Mr Jackson too badly.”

Sara flicked her hair out of her face, popped a cherry tomato into her mouth, and languidly got to her feet. She stretched as she chewed, then she jogged over to Jax and in what appeared to be an impossible move that Rip would have sworn was just a blur of hands, she stole the ball from him and ran off, giggling, with Jax in hot pursuit.

“Assassin football,” said Ray, putting his plate down. “This is going to be fun,” he said with enthusiasm. He too got to his feet and headed into the field.

“I have a very bad feeling about this,” said Rip, watching the four team members messing about on the field. He repositioned himself on the blanket, leaning back on an elbow.

“Yes, I think I should go and referee before an injury occurs,” said Martin, pushing himself up and wandering towards the game.

“They remind me of you and your foster siblings,” said Mary, reaching out to give Rip a quick sideways hug.

“Yes,” said Rip, drawing out the word. “They do bear a strong resemblance to a bunch of children.”

“This has been lovely,” said Mary, looking around at the sunshine, green grass, and open field with the team running around on it. “How are you doing? You worked hard this morning.”

“I’m tired, but I’m fine,” said Rip. “And that wasn’t hard work, or at least it wouldn’t have been normally.”

“You’re doing much better, Michael,” said Mary, “Look at how strong you are now.”

“Yes, kittens can no longer knock me down with one paw,” replied Rip, dryly.

Mary smiled. “Don’t be defeatist. You can jump me home tomorrow and then it won’t be long before you’ll be hunting aberrations again.”

“Have you noticed how ridiculously over-protective my team have become? I think I’m going to be grounded for a little while longer,” said Rip.

“And that is probably quite a good thing,” said Mary. “If you can’t chase a football then you’re not ready for chasing the bad guys, my dear boy.”

“I am aware,” said Rip, still watching his team. “Did you have to tell them that I can sing? You know where that’s going to lead.”

“Yes, you might actually have some fun,” said Mary. “Goodness knows you need more of that in your life.”

“I have fun,” said Rip, indignantly.

“Do you really? That isn’t what I’ve been hearing,” said Mary. “You could do with listening to your friends more, you know.”

“Probably, and I am trying,” he admitted.

“Good,” said Mary, with a smile. “Now, you should have your afternoon nap and I’ll ensure that any stray footballs don’t impinge upon it.”

Mary rearranged the cushions on the rug so that Rip could lie down and get comfortable, patting the area she expected him to sleep on. He knew better than to argue that he wasn’t tired, she’d only point out that he’d already told her that he was. He settled himself down on the rug and closed his eyes, the warm sun on his skin and the sounds of happy laughter in the background. He sighed in contentment and drifted into a doze.

He awoke later to his team returning from their game, tiredly dropping back to their seats on the rug. Some of the biscuits that he’d made the previous day were being handed around, and Mary was pouring tea into cups from a thermos. He slowly levered himself back into a sitting position.

“Hey, welcome back,” said Sara.

“Who won?” asked Rip.

“I believe Sara had the longest possession of the ball,” said Martin.

“But Jax got the longest pass,” said Sara.

Rip frowned. “Where is Jax?”

“He went back to the ship to get a couple of things,” said Sara.

“Here he comes,” said Ray, with a smile.

Rip turned around to see Jax coming from the direction of the Waverider, and he was carrying something with an unmistakeable shape. Rip groaned.

“You told them where my guitar was,” he said accusingly to Mary.

“We twisted her arm,” said Ray.

“It was Sara’s idea,” said Mick, happy to drop the assassin in it.

Mary had a very amused look on her face. “Oh come on, live a little, Michael.”

“There’s absolutely no way that I can talk you out of this, is there?”

The assembled Legends shook their heads vigorously, with smiles on their faces, amused by his reluctance. He gave up and held out his hand for his guitar. Jax handed it to him and sat down with the rest of the team. He cast an examining eye over the instrument. It hadn’t been used in months, but it wasn’t in bad condition. He cradled it in his lap and ran a thumb across the strings, judging how out of tune it was, before he turned his attention to retuning the strings individually. He twisted the tuning pegs and listened carefully until he was sure that every note was as it should be.

Then he strummed experimentally, refamiliarizing himself with how it felt to play.

“Well,” he said, “there really is only one thing that it seems appropriate to play.”

Rip finger picked the intro to Lou Reed’s “Perfect Day”, moving into strumming chords in readiness for the verse, and then tentatively began to sing.

“Just a perfect day  
Drink Sangria in the park  
And then later  
When it gets dark, we go home”

He looked up and saw that his team were all watching him with amazement, but also encouragement. He felt his voice get stronger as he continued.

“Just a perfect day  
Feed animals in the zoo  
Then later  
A movie, too, and then home”

His fingers faltered a little as they moved into the chorus, but he doubted anyone would notice but him. He was very out of practice, but his muscle memory would carry him through most of this.

“Oh, it's such a perfect day  
I'm glad I spent it with you  
Oh, such a perfect day  
You just keep me hanging on  
You just keep me hanging on

Just a perfect day  
Problems all left alone  
Weekenders on our own  
It's such fun

Just a perfect day  
You made me forget myself  
I thought I was  
Someone else, someone good

Oh, it's such a perfect day  
I'm glad I spent it with you  
Oh…”

He tailed off, with a final chord. There was more to the song, but he couldn’t remember the words for the last stanza. The team clapped happily as the last notes sounded.

“That was amazing,” said Jax.

“Er, thank you,” said Rip. “I am somewhat out of practice, and I forgot some of the words.”

“It was lovely,” said Mary, “and you were fine, but it was a little sad sounding.”

“How about this instead then?” asked Rip, strumming something a bit more upbeat. “If anyone wanted to join in then I wouldn’t be averse to some help.”

He began the intro to “Give a Little Bit” by Supertramp, somewhat faster than the previous song and rather more cheerful. He was less tentative this time and more sure of his voice.

“Give a little bit  
Give a little bit of your love to me  
I'll give a little bit  
I'll give a little bit of my love to you  
There's so much that we need to share  
So send a smile, and show you care.”

He wondered if he’d picked the wrong song for a moment, but then he could see Jax tapping his fingers on his knee, and Martin was nodding along. However, it was Sara who joined in the following verse. He’d always suspected that she was into classic rock.  
  
“I'll give a little bit  
I'll give a little bit of my life for you  
So give a little bit  
Give a little bit of your time to me  
See the man with the lonely eyes  
Oh, take his hand, you'll be surprised.  
  
Oh, take it  
Come along”

Then everyone else decided that if Sara could manage it then they could too, with Mick turning out to be quite an impressive bass. Ray was enthusiastic but not quite in tune. Jax had a very pleasing tone, but Martin surprised everyone with a voice like velvet.  
  
“Give a little bit  
Give a little bit of your love to me  
Give a little bit  
I'll give a little bit of my life for you  
Now's the time that we need to share  
So find yourself, we're on our way back home  
  
Oh, going home  
Don't you need, don't you need to feel at home?  
Oh, yeah, we gotta see”

Rip played the lead out’s final chord and everyone collapsed in happy laughter, just from the sheer enjoyment of the moment.

“More,” said Mick. “Do you know any Elvis?”

Rip gave him a small smile. “Maybe the odd song.”

The Legends spent the next hour happily singing along to Rip’s guitar playing, while he strummed various songs for them. They continued until Mary finally called time, reminding everyone that they needed to return to the Waverider for dinner. They packed up the picnic, rugs, cushions, football and guitar and headed home, chatting and laughing. Rip was worn out, but it wasn’t the lingering fatigue of illness that had depressed him so much, it was tiredness from spending a day outside with his friends. Good tiredness.

***

The Waverider was ready for departure. Their first stop was the Refuge to return Mary home and then they’d give Rip a day to make sure he was really well enough to jump as normal before following up on an aberration in Boston 1773. Sara had not told Rip about the aberration yet, just in case the time jump was harder on him than they thought it would be. Mary seemed to think he’d just experience the same levels of side effects as the rest of them that hadn’t been travelling through time for the last fourteen years. They’d all been coping with those for a while, so Rip could definitely manage it.

“I’m assuming that you’re not going to let me drive,” said Rip, as he stepped onto the bridge. He had walked there on his own, without anyone at his elbow shepherding him. Mary had officially relaxed the rules, giving Rip back his right to wander the ship as he pleased. He went to the console and was looking at the course that Gideon had plotted.

“You assume correctly. Not until Gideon’s given you a final physical and declared you one hundred percent,” said Sara, going over the final flight system checks with Jax.

“It’s quite a way to the Refuge,” said Rip, looking down at the table.

“Yup,” said Sara, and frowned. There was something about his tone of voice. She stopped what she was doing and turned to look at him. Rip Hunter stood before her, in his boots, dark trousers, leather jacket and long coat, his hair perfectly styled and beard trimmed. He was still too pale and thin but he looked more like himself than she’d seen him look in weeks, however something was wrong.

“Jax, can you give us a moment?” asked Sara.

Jax glanced between Sara and Rip. He frowned. “Uh, sure. I’ve got some systems checks to do.”

Jax picked up his tablet and headed out of the room. Rip had his hands in his pockets and was rocking back on his heels, eyes firmly on the floor. He waited until Jax was definitely gone before he looked over towards Sara.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“That is what I was going to ask you,” said Sara.

“Nothing,” said Rip.

“Don’t lie,” said Sara. “I thought we were past that.”

“It really isn’t anything important,” said Rip.

“Okay, so we’ve gone from “nothing” to not “anything important”. I guess that’s progress,” said Sara, crossly.

“I’m sorry to have bothered you while you were getting ready for the jump,” said Rip, taking a step back from the table and turning to go. “I’ll leave you to your preparations.”

“Don’t you dare walk out of this room,” said Sara.

Rip threw his hands up in the air and turned back around. “Fine, you want to know what the problem is. The problem is that the last time we jumped it nearly killed me, and I am… anxious. Which is ridiculous! I was a Time Master! I’ve time jumped hundreds of times.” Rip hung his head.

Sara sighed and got to her feet. She should have seen this one coming.

“We can wait a bit longer?” she suggested.

“It won’t help,” said Rip, miserably. “It’s been weeks already, and I can’t believe that this is what I’m struggling with.”

“I can’t imagine that being rendered deaf and blind was fun, Rip. It’s bound to affect you,” said Sara, “you’ve got to stop being so hard on yourself. I know that Mary’s really helped you this last week but you can’t expect to be fine overnight.”

“I know, Sara,” said Rip. “And I _can_ do this. Please, don’t tell the others.”

Sara felt hurt that he had to ask. “As if I would. You’ll be fine. I think everyone’s expecting some nerves.”

Rip nodded, fidgeting with the edge of the table. “We really should get going. The waiting is just making this worse.”

Sara agreed. “Gideon, could you call everyone to the bridge, please.”

“Of course, Miss Lance,” replied Gideon.

Rip went to take one of the seats on the second row.

“What are you doing?” asked Sara.

“Getting ready to jump,” said Rip, as if Sara was being quite stupid.

“Not in that seat. Come on, you’re the Captain. You can’t pilot yet, but the co-pilot chair is yours. Besides, if I keep you busy you won’t have time to worry about the jump,” she replied.

“Oh,” said Rip, with realisation. He headed for the co-pilot’s chair instead. “Are you sure this is wise?”

“No, but this is what we’re going to do,” said Sara, turning back to the navigation console. “Just don’t throw up over the electrical systems.”

“I shall try to avoid that,” said Rip, already checking over systems, like he’d never been away.

The other members of the team started to file onto the bridge, and Mary was the last to arrive. She gave Rip a quick squeeze on his shoulder before taking her seat, and there was nothing but pride in her eyes. Rip put a hand on hers but no words were exchanged and Sara already knew why Mary was reassuring her son. She doubted that Rip had said anything about how he felt, but Mary had demonstrated that she knew her son well and was remarkably perceptive when it came to his inner demons.

Everyone took their seats, with Jax in the engineer’s chair.

“Gideon, set a course for the Refuge, please,” said Sara.

“Already laid in, Miss Lance,” said Gideon.

“Okay,” said Sara. “Everyone strapped in?”

The team gave various affirmative responses, so Sara kicked the engines into gear and lifted the Waverider up off the ground. The secondary stabiliser was slightly underpower.

“Rip, secondary stabiliser’s off,” said Sara. This was possibly more Jax’s area, but Rip needed the distraction.

“We have been sat idyll for quite a while,” said Rip, examining the readings. “It probably just needs to run for a bit.”

Sara nodded. She knew the ship well enough to agree and know that there was no danger. “Okay, keep an eye on it. I’m taking us into the temporal zone.”

She glanced in his direction and saw the way that his hands were shaking as he operated the co-pilot’s station, doing as she’d asked. He was working through it though. They moved into the temporal zone and she heard Rip’s sharp intake of breath at the transition. She reminded herself that he was still recovering and this was still going to be unpleasant for him. His hands had dropped from the controls and he had leaned back in his seat, eyes closed, his breathing rapid.

“Hang in there,” she said. She piloted them through the river of time, navigating the streams with the skills that Rip had taught her.

She reached the point that was the exit for the Refuge.

“Okay, leaving the temporal zone,” she called out, making it look like it was for the benefit of everyone, but really making sure that she gave Rip a warning.

She took the Waverider out of the temporal zone and heard another small groan from Rip. She set the ship down on the green grass of the Refuge’s garden, powered down and immediately turned to Rip. He had his eyes shut and was breathing too quickly.

“Rip?”

For a moment he didn’t speak. Then he murmured, “I’m okay.”

Sara raised the restraining bar on her seat and moved over to him, raising the restraining bar and taking his pulse. His eyes opened and he blinked. She rotated his seat so the she could crouch in front of him.

“Well, I can see,” he said, blinking.

“And hear?” asked Sara, she looked up to see Mary coming over to join them.

“Yes, hear too,” said Rip, “but I feel terrible and there are two of you.”

“Double vision,” said Mary. “Well, it could have been worse. I assume that the rest of you are fine?” She looked around at the other team members and received a series of nods.

“Can you stand?” asked Sara.

“I think I might throw up if I do,” said Rip. “My stomach is quite unhappy.”

“It’s okay, I’ve got the bucket,” said Ray, bringing it over. “I thought we might need it.”

“Thank you,” said Rip, with relief.

“Poor boy,” said Mary. “Let’s get you sat down in the parlour.”

Sara and Mary helped Rip up and across the bridge to one of the leather armchairs in his office, while the rest of the team hovered in the doorway. He didn’t need the bucket, just a moment to get his bearings after standing. His eyesight was a little off but they made sure he didn’t crash into anything on the short walk.

Rip sat down heavily in the chair, and leaned back, letting out a relieved huff of breath. He just had to wait now and let the symptoms pass, normally it took a few seconds, but given that he wasn’t back to full strength, it could be hours.

“How are you doing?” asked Sara.

“I’m fine, really,” said Rip. “There’s no need for anyone to fuss.”

“Yes, yes,” said Mary. “What’s the point of my being here if it isn’t to fuss over you.”

Mary picked up the decanter that was on Rip’s desk and poured enough glasses of the amber spirit inside for everyone. She handed one to each of the team, another to Rip who looked a little surprised, and kept the final one for herself.

“Am I allowed to drink this?” asked Rip, with a perplexed look at his mother.

“Sip it slowly,” said Mary, “alcohol in small amounts is actually quite good for relieving the adverse symptoms of time travel. Consider it medicinal.”

“I always do,” said Mick, with a slight raise of his glass before he downed it in one.

Rip considered the glass for a second and then did as suggested, sipping the liquid inside cautiously.

“Jumps should get better from here,” said Mary, “and you’ll be back to your previous lack of symptoms in no time.”

“I really hope so, I’d forgotten how annoying they could be,” said Rip. “It’s like being a rookie again. Ah, fond memories.”

Sara smirked. This had actually gone better than expected, and keeping Rip busy had definitely been the key to getting him through this first jump after his illness. As Mary had said, things should be easier now. However, it had been a lesson in how dangerous time travel could actually be. Most of the time everyone was just amused by the various side effects, but perhaps it was useful to be reminded that jumping through time wasn’t a risk-free endeavour.

The team sat around the parlour chatting and keeping Rip company while he recovered. It took about an hour before he felt up to moving, but Sara could tell that his vision hadn’t quite cleared. It seemed to be good enough though that he wasn’t going to bump into things. He shooed them all off to get back to work.

Everyone had things to do and they needed to return Mary to her charges who were roughly about fifteen years old at this point. The team disembarked the ship and delivered Mary and the small amount of luggage she’d brought with her back home.

Teenage Time Masters were every bit as much of a handful as they were the last time they’d seen them at around ten years old. Mary hadn’t been away long, they’d brought her back only minutes after she’d left, but she still found that one of her sons had turned the music up too loud in their room and one of her daughters was hogging the games console. There was shouting and things became rather better ordered in the Refuge as Mary’s presence was felt again.

“I was away for five minutes!” said Mary, with exasperation, as she made tea and brought out freshly made scones. “Honestly, the teenage years are the worst of all.”

Sara caught sight of a lanky teen boy with floppy light brown hair and recognised him immediately. His arms and legs had the appearance of being too long for his body and he reminded her of a new born foal who needed to grow into his limbs. He was arguing with two of his siblings about what they should do next, but the argument stopped when they noticed that they were being observed and the group moved outside to play some form of cricket. Sara moved to the window so that she could continue to watch.

“I can’t really fault my childhood here,” said Rip, arriving beside her. “Mother did whatever she could to make this into a home.”

“Did I just give you a new memory?” asked Sara.

Rip nodded. “I do remember seeing us having tea and you watching me. Just another one of the perils of time travel. And I have a memory of stabbing the Pilgrim too, which wasn’t there before we came here the first time. I was a somewhat nicer child by this point. Mother had filed off a lot of my rough edges.”

Sara smirked. “Still a few to go, Rip.”

Rip gave her an amused look and a raised eyebrow. “No doubt.”

“We should probably talk about getting back to work,” said Sara.

“Ah, I’m allowed to discuss it now, am I?”

“I think you’re ready,” replied Sara. “So, we’ve got an aberration. Boston 1773. Probably Time Pirates again. Are you going to be able to cope with running the mission from the ship while we deal with whatever’s going on?”

“Well, I did know I was going to be grounded for a bit longer. I’m sure I’ll find it annoying and frustrating, but I think I’ll manage until I’m back to one hundred percent fit and can re-join you in the field.” Rip finished his tea.

“Good,” said Sara. “It’s time we got back to being Legends and we need you with us to do that.”

A look passed over Rip’s face, and Sara knew that he was just a little surprised by her words, but she meant them. She knew that they still had issues of teamwork to improve upon, but Rip was the one who’d brought them together, given them a purpose and set them on this adventure. He’d always be their heart and it was good to have him well again. The Legends were a family and they worked better when they were complete.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to draw this to a conclusion somewhere, so this is the end. Thank you all for reading, and your lovely comments. I hope everyone has enjoyed it.
> 
> I make no apology for the fact that I have Rip singing in this. I imagine him doing a lot more things like that when he was happy with his family, but grief took all of his enthusiasm for that from him and set him on his single minded pursuit of Vandal Savage. I like to think that the team help him unwind a bit after Savage is dead and eventually he starts doing things like playing guitar again.
> 
> I made a playlist of all the songs in this fic: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLuvxu_a27rqe5x6tb71y_q5SDCxMW8XnR
> 
> I have head canon of Mick singing Hurt (a la Johnny Cash) but that's for another fic.
> 
> And baking. It sort of comes out of nowhere that he spends Doomworld baking, so my thought is that Mary Xavier would never have let her children leave the Refuge without being able to cook, and Rip actually quite enjoyed it. He does seem like the type to enjoy the precision and perfection required for baking perfect cakes.


End file.
